La Reine Des Coeurs
by SecretLifeOfABlonde
Summary: Anne Boleyn is used to being the holder of Henry's heart, so how will she take to her position being taken by Jane Seymour. Throw in a fickle Henry VIII and enemies around every corner, who could say the Tudor court was ever boring?
1. Lying To You

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _And, girl, you must know that you are lovely,_

 _You're kind and you're beautiful too,_

 _And I feel in some way I do love you,_

 _But, babe, I'm not in love with you,_

 _But, babe, I'm not in love with you'_

 _Lying to You by Keaton Henson_

 **29** **th** **January 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London,**

She strolled genially through the spacious halls of the palace, stopping every so often to admire this painting or that sculpture. She loved the history of the gallery, seeing all the Kings and Queens that came before herself. She paused, her slim hands resting upon her large bump, rubbing it slightly. She couldn't wait until her babe came, there was only a month or two left. Her beloved Henry had ordered Hans Holbein to commission a family portrait to celebrate the birth of his heir once he arrived.

She found herself in front of a rather grand portrait of a beautiful woman with hair that looked as though it was spun gold itself and large knowing eyes. A grin crept across Anne's face as she looked upon her husband's grandmother. Elizabeth Woodville was the focus of this painting and it was said to be a remarkable look-a-like. Elizabeth Woodville often mixed with Anne's name. Both were non-royal women who captivated the heart of passionate kings. It warmed Anne to hear that some people saw Henry and herself like Elizabeth and her King, Edward. Everyone knew Elizabeth and Edward was a love story. _Like me and Henry_ , Anne smiled again, her fingers brushing the textured canvas.

She continued her walk, her favourite ladies; Nan and Madge, trailing behind her, their cream gowns rustling as they wandered. They were almost at Anne's destination now. She was excited to see her husband, to ask him to bring their darling daughter, Elizabeth to court again and to suggest to him that they had an amble in the beautiful snowy gardens. She was desperate to spend as much time with him as possible before her laying-in began.

She reached the heavy and ornately carved oak door to her husband's outer chambers, her dark eyes looking at the two foreboding guards at the door, who were studiously avoiding her piercing gaze.

"Nan, Madge, please remain her" commanded Anne, ruffling Urian's fur. Urian yipped loudly, tail wagging, no doubt excited about his upcoming walk. Turning back to the guards, Anne gestured for them to move away and then she entered the room.

 **XX**

"If you would only allow me to serve you as your Sir Lancelot, then I would be forever happy" murmured Henry, his arms wrapping around Jane's slim waist.

Her pale blue eyes fluttered down to her lap, playing with the embroidered lace of her cream dress. Henry's deft fingers brushed the temples of her pale face before removing her French hood and allowing her blonde curls to tumble down, framing her thin face with their ringlets. He ran his hands through her locks.

"You are an angel" sighed Henry, his eyes roaming over her. She was everything he wanted. A soothing balm to his wife's fire. The light in the dark. He knew Jane was perfect, so alike his beloved mother. Should his bad-tempered and jealous wife fail to deliver him an heir then Henry knew Jane would make the flawless wife, queen and mother.

"Your majesty" breathed Jane, her hands enclosing his, "I would be honoured to be your Guinevere". Henry smiled, his hands cupped her angelic face, their breath fanning across each other's faces before his lips crashed against hers in a moment of longing.

Neither of them heard the door opening but they heard the slamming of it and the shriek of fury and upset that left his wife's mouth.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. What is this?!", the voice made both Henry and Jane spring apart. Jane's eyes widened as she saw the heavily pregnant queen wailing and she fled behind the throne, hoping Henry would be able to contain his jealous wife's anger.

"Just when my belly is doing its business, I find you wenching with Mistress Seymour" hissed Anne, stalking towards Jane, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Henry jumped up, anxiety evident on his face and he ran towards his wife, arms encircling her like restraints.

"Jane, go" he commanded, giving her a pointed look as he held his wife. As soon as Jane had fled, he felt Anne stop fighting against him, and then she began sobbing hysterically.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me" she cried pitifully, tears streaming down her redden face. Henry kissed the top of her raven locks, shushing her as he rocked her in his strong arms.

"No, no, no" whimpered Anne, her quiet words falling out of her mouth between heavy breaths. For a moment, Henry felt awful, he had seen her angry many a time and jealous even more. But he had never heard her cry so pathetically. But then his anger kicked in, his fury at her interrupting his peaceful afternoon with Jane. She would be better served to act like a queen, to ignore his comings and goings like her betters did. He moved his hand to her bulging stomach, trying to calm his wife for their unborn child's sake.

"Anne, oh Anne" he muttered, pulling them both to the floor gently and holding her shaking form to his body.

He heard her cries louden again and he looked at her sharply, ready to reprimand her for endangering their son with her ridiculous hysterics when his eyes encountered her shaking and bloodied hand.

 **XX**

 _Notes: Please note that although I do try to historically accurate, this is an AU, so things will deviate from history. I tend to make a note at the beginning of each chapter with the correct details if I am including a historical event in an AU._

 _I have changed the gestational length of Anne's pregnancy to make it fit better within my story. According to letters from the Imperial Ambassador, Chapuys, Anne Boleyn suffered a devastating miscarriage of a male child, aged around 15 weeks of gestation._

 _I've been listening to the very lovely Keaton Henson for inspiration and it's helped me write this chapter. I do hope you like it. Please review, I always appreciate it and I love hearing how I can improve._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own British history, nor do I own Showtime's The Tudors._

 _ **This story outline was the idea of 'I Love Kol Mikaelson' who approached me to ask me to write her story for her.**_

 _If you have any questions, please feel free to message me, I will always do my best to answer!_


	2. A Little Piece Of Heaven

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _You had my heart,_

 _At least for the most part"_

 _A Little Piece Of Heaven by Avenged Sevenfold_

 **29** **th** **January 1536, Palace of Placentia, Greenwich, London**

Henry paced outside his wife's bedchambers, shooting glares at anyone who dared to look at him, his nails cutting into his palms. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, he marched. Emotions coursing through him.

 _She is disgraceful, an unsuitable wife and queen,_ Henry thought bitterly, rage building in the pit of his stomach, ready to spring out. He heard another scream and he flinched. _Stupid woman endangering my beloved son._

From the corner of his eye, he could see Anne's father and uncle conversing quietly by the large bay window. George, Anne's precious brother, sat motionless, hands clasped tightly, his lips moving quickly as he prayed for his sister. Anne's mother had been barred entrance to her youngest daughter, despite being present at Princess Elizabeth's birth, the doctor deeming this situation to be too upsetting for the countess. The countess sat by the door, waiting to spring up at any moment, her face anxious and her hands running over her book of hours, touching the words of God but not reading them.

They all jumped as the door swung open, creaking heavily. Out strode Lady Jane Boleyn, her cheeks wet with unshed tears. She looked momentarily at her husband, George, before disappearing with a large pile of bloodied sheets. She scurried back past with new sheets, stopping for only a moment to squeeze her husband's hand.

"Your Majesty, I beseeched you to ask Doctor Linacre if I may join my daughter. I know my presence will be a great comfort to her at this trying time", Elizabeth Boleyn all but begged Henry, her eyes shining. Henry ignored her, sullenly looking at the waxing moon.

 _Stupid wife,_ he thought again. It had been six hours since that fateful experience and here he was, still waiting for news. Still waiting for Linacre to announce that the damned witch had miscarried again. He knew in his mind that this miscarriage was a sign from God, their union was cursed, just like his and Katherine's had been.

Suddenly he spotted a blonde head scuttling towards him, lips trembling. Her cream gown was tightly laced around her slender frame, her perky breasts threatening to spill out as she all but ran from the birthing chamber.

"Jane, what's wrong?" asked Henry, searching her face, his hands smoothed down her fair hair, readjusting the French hood on her head. He knew she hated the flirtatious French fashions and would've rather worn a gable hood, but her uniform required her to wear it. Jane looked down at the floor, biting her lip, trying to look the picture of innocence like her father had suggested.

"Janey, you know you can always speak freely in front of me, for it is the definition of love" murmured Henry, not caring that Anne's family surrounded him, or that his wife was losing their child. George looked up sharply, red colouring his cheeks as he glared at the King, the bastard that had so badly hurt his glorious sister. Elizabeth Boleyn looked away in anguish, her eyes trained firmly at the bookcase. Thomas Boleyn and Thomas Howard had obviously not heard the King's expression of love, or if they had they were ignoring it.

"Your Majesty" began Jane, looking deep into Henry's eyes, "the Queen screamed at me and banished me from her chambers. I was only trying to help" whimpered Jane, hoping she looked the picture of sadness.

Henry scowled, even now, even at this awful point, Anne could still find it in herself to be rude to someone as courteous as his Jane. He sighed heavily, glaring at the oak door. Even if she couldn't see his anger, Henry felt better.

"Come Jane, lets talk more in private" he whispered his breath tickling her ear. Jane's breath hitched in her throat knowing what he meant, her family had not coached her on what to do in this situation. _Time to be a woman Janey,_ she thought to herself, gingerly taking Henry's warm hand and allowing him to lead her to the door.

The door to Anne's chamber burst open again so suddenly, that it hit the stone wall. Doctor Linacre stood there, eyes wild and face dripping in sweat. He fumbled into a bow as quickly as he could.

"Your Majesty" he called, breathless, wiping his bloodied hands on his tunic.

"Your Majesty, the Queen…well, I don't think her, or the babe will make it. But if we have a chance to save one of them, which one did you want to be saved?"

Henry stared at Linacre, watching the colour drain from the physician's ruddy face. He could still feel the fury racing through his veins and in the moment, he couldn't care less with what happened to his jealous wife. She had caused all of this.

Henry's face split wide, into a spiteful grin.

"Save the babe, if you can."

 **XX**

Jane was perfect, kind and obedient. She was pretty too, maybe not the prettiest lady at court, but he adored her blonde curls and the way her smile curved around her face. He loved her pale blue eyes and the way she looked at him, as if she was in awe of him. She was so different from Anne too. Everything Henry wanted in a wife. In fact, Jane reminded Henry of his mother.

Both were family women, and Henry knew that Jane would make a beautiful mother as well as a loving stepmother. _Unlike Anne._ It infuriated him, how even in moments when Henry knew himself to be happy that she crossed his thoughts, marring them with the mere thought of her. It was unnatural the way his mind obsessed over her. He looked out of his bedroom window at the stars shining above.

The body next to him shifted in her sleep and Henry peered at her. Her pouty lips were slightly open, and he admired the way her eyelashes brushed her cheekbones. Her hair was a mess, blonde curls splayed across the pillow. He dares not wake her, wanting to drink her in as if she was a fine wine. She looked like an angel, laying next to him and Henry smiled, dipping down to press a tender kiss to her angular collarbones. He knew Jane would make a good queen and he knew now that he must be rid of Anne and her temptress ways. She had failed him and that made her useless. In fact, that made her replaceable. He would go to Cromwell tomorrow and ask him to consider ways to get rid of his unruly wife.

Henry was stirred from his thoughts by a sharp knock on the door. Sighing, he withdrew from the bed, wincing at the draft in the air. He gently readjusted the blankets around Jane's sleeping form and pulled on a pair of breeches before pulling open the door.

In front of him stood a very breathless George Boleyn.

"Come quick, it's…it's…Anne"

 **XX**

 _Notes: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please feel free to message me if you have any questions or if you just wanted to discuss this story._

 _Please_ _review_ _, it is singlehandedly the best thing to receive as a writer as it lets me know that you are enjoying my story or that you have suggestions on how I could improve it._

 _Thank you to the lovely people who have reviewed, followed and favourited this story._

 _Disclaimer: British history does not belong to me, nor does Showtime's The Tudors (although I do love their castings!)_

 _I have had two messages asking me who I based my Anne and Jane on. My Anne Boleyn is based on the very beautiful and very talented Natalie Dormer, who plays Anne in the Tudors, the only difference is that I gave my Anne dark eyes as is historically correct. My Jane is based on season three's Annabelle Wallis who is also gorgeous. (I can't stand season two's Jane Seymour so…)_

 _Anyway, onwards with the next chapter…_


	3. Revelry

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _So the time we shared it was precious to me,_

 _All the while I was dreaming of revelry'_

 _Revelry by Kings Of Leon_

 **30th January 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London**

Henry raced through the large bright gallery, pushing past the milling courtiers that had begun to emerge from their chambers, dashing after the fast figure in front of him. He had left his Jane sleeping in his large bed, unwilling to wake her. She looked so angelic while she slept. Though now, all thoughts of Jane were chased from his mind and replaced with thoughts of enchanting dark eyes and raven locks. He felt sick to his stomach, fear coiling and forcing its way up his throat. He couldn't believe what he had said to his wife when she last saw her and the idea that he may not see the charming smile on her face or the love pooling in her eyes again struck fear into his soul.

George Boleyn stopped suddenly in front of his sister's private chambers, waiting for the King to catch up with him, knowing he wasn't as fast as he once had been. When Henry finally stood by his side, breathing heavily, George pushed open the heavy oak door.

Jane Boleyn darted forwards, dipping into a deep curtsey for his Majesty and then rushing into her husband's arms, her clever green eyes lined and dark with circles. Henry could hear the mumbled words tumbling from the Viscountess' mouth but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He could feel his heart beating loudly against his chest and there was that bitter taste of bile in his mouth again. His hands stroked the wooden door, feeling the grooves. All he heard from inside was a deafening silence and he bit the inside of his cheek sharply, drawing blood.

"Your Majesty, shall we go in?" questioned Jane, nodding to her husband and her in-laws, knowing that they would not be allowed into the private bedchambers of the Queen until her husband had been in.

Henry nodded, unsure of his words, unsure of what tragedy would lay before him. No doubt a stillborn…

 **XX**

Henry entered the darkened chambers of his wife, noticing how hastily tapestries had been strewn over the large windows. The large gold ceremonial cradle sat empty by the side of the fire, the fire which was spitting ash. Dozens of attendants dashed past, only some who Henry knew by name. Madge, pretty and pleasant and plump Madge, was tending to the fire, Nan, Anne's loyal companion, was gathering bloodied items from the bed and Bess Holland, the Duke of Norfolk's favoured mistress, was sitting by the bed, reading the Bible to the others.

Sitting, propped up by goose feather filled pillows, was his wife. Her face was almost as white as her silken sheets, and her lips were a pale pink; chapped and spilt. Her ebony locks were twisted into a long loose braid and the white nightgown drooped around her shoulders revealing dark bruises that made Henry wince when he realised they had occurred from his restraining of her. She looked poorly, shadows dark under her stormy brown eyes.

"Your Majesty" she whispered, her voice hoarse and cracking from the overuse, her head dropped into a respectful nod, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Henry moved closer, looking at his frail wife carefully, before his eyes dropped. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed a pink squirming bundle in his wife's arms. A babe. A live babe.

"Anne…" he whispered, moving to his wife's bedside and peering at the small babe in her thin arms.

"Do you want to hold it?" murmured Anne, tired and exhausted from the hard labour, still avoiding his eyes.

Henry gently took the infant into his strong arms, smiling down at the tiny baby. Red hair christened the babe's small head and the babe let out a small coo, their small hand squatting out at the empty air. Dark eyes, so alike Anne's, squinted up at him, gazing at him in sleepiness.

"I…What…Does it have a name?" questioned Henry, deciding not to query the gender for once, grateful just to have a living child. And a living wife, a small voice in his head whispered, reminding him of his mother's untimely death in the childbed.

Anne shifted slightly before grimacing in pain, her dark eyes narrowing. She bit her lip before replying quietly, hoping not to anger her hot-headed husband.

"…I wished to name him George, Your Majesty".

Henry turned to her, his deep blue eyes glistening with tears as he looked back down at his son…I have a son…his could feel the joy swell in his chest as though it had replaced everything and filled his very veins with happiness.

"George is fine, my love…I…I have a son" smiled Henry, reaching out his hand to grip Anne's slender one, squeezing it tenderly. She pulled away quickly, as if scorched by his very touch, turning her face away from him.

Jane Boleyn came closer, carrying a steaming goblet containing sweetened ale and some medicine in one hand and handing it to her sister-in-law. In her other arm lay an even smaller babe. She curtsied carefully to the royals, her green eyes glinting with pride.

"Twin sons, Your Majesty" simpered Jane Boleyn, smiling at her sister-in-law as she handed the second babe to Henry and took Baby George from his arms, before laying in his ornate crib.

"Louis" mumbled Anne, tiredly, laying back and snuggling into her large pillows, her dark eyes watching her husband and her youngest son.

Henry's eyes drifted over the tiny infant in his arms, even smaller than baby George. Louis had a smattering of wispy blonde hair on his head and York blue eyes that made Henry's heart clench as they reminded him so much of his dear mother.

He placed the babe gently in the smaller wooden crib before heading over to Doctor Linacre, who was perched in the corner of the room, updating Margaret Beaufort's book of 'Births, Deaths and Important Events'. He looked up at the King, springing agilely to his feet and sweeping into a respectful bow, waiting for his King to speak.

"Doctor Linacre, is the Queen healthy? Are my boys going to be okay?" questioned Henry, brows furrowing in worry.

"Your Majesty, although the boys were premature, both appear to be healthy now. Prince George is larger than his brother and the eldest by 20 minutes. He was alert and pinkened quickly after birth. Prince Louis…was smaller and was unfortunately cyanosed by the time of his birth. I had to perform mouth to mouth on him. He is still slightly weaker but fine now, but I recommend both boys being kept at court, close to their mother. Her breathing and temperature will help regulate theirs. I also recommend, forgive me your Majesty, that the Queen feeds them from her own breast".

Henry nodded, willing to allow anything to keep his heirs healthy, he waited for Linacre to continue.

"Her Majesty sustained massive blood loss and will need to abstain from sexual activity for six months in order to heal properly from the twins' birth. I…I also think she may be unable to conceive again after such a traumatic delivery".

Henry nodded again, tersely, disappointed. His eyes flickered to his pale wife, who was staring at the crib next to her as if it would disappear if she blinked. She didn't look beautiful like this, she was frail and sickly, but she had fulfilled her duty and provided England with two princes. He walked to her bedside, ignoring how she flinched away from him.

"Anne, I will get Cromwell to start preparing celebration for our sons' birth. Please think of who you would like to be our sons' godparents. I will also ask Elizabeth to court for you" he paused, waiting to see her charming smile but she remained unmoving.

Henry sighed in irritation, "well Anne, my love, I am off to order the bells to be rung. I will send in your family".

He left, turning back for only a second to see her icy facade melt and see the heart-warming smile appear on her face as she looked down upon Prince George. For a minute, regret filled his head and he hoped that she would thaw towards him and allow him to be the recipient of her bright smiles and hushed words of love.

"Anne, I love you".

 **XX**

 _So that's it for this time._

 _Notes: I hope you enjoy this chapter and it's everything you hoped for._

 _Disclaimer – I do not own anything but my story._

 _Thank you to all the lovely people who have favourited and followed my story. Big thank you to my reviewers who help to inspire me to write!_

 _Child Of Dreams_ _– I hope this chapter horrifies you less than the other ones. I agree that Henry is immensely awful to our dear Anne._

 _Light Filled City_ _– I'm glad you are enjoying this story. Elizabeth Boleyn will be a reoccurring character as I think she will be most interesting to write. By all accounts, she was said to be delightfully charming and incredibly beautiful. George does not do what you hoped as he doesn't play a large part at all in this chapter, but he will definitely play a large part next time, starring alongside his wife._

 _QueenAnneTudor – __Very interesting idea, I'll see what I can do._

 _Candy Momo – __I'm so glad you find this story interesting. I hope this next update doesn't disappoint you._

 _Big thank you to all my reviewers, please keep it up (whether it's to say what you like or what I can do better). I find it incredibly motivational._

 _Anyway, onwards with the story._

 _Next chapter will contain the christenings of the boys and introduce our lovely Princess Elizabeth. George Boleyn and Lady Jane Boleyn will also play a large part. Elizabeth Boleyn will guest star and of course, there will be lots of lovely Anne._

 _Jane Seymour makes an important decision next time, one that will affect all of the royal family._

 _Please review and please continuing messaging me with all of your fantastic theories._

 _Thank you!_


	4. Fire Meets Gasoline

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _I'm burning alive_

 _I can barely breathe_

 _When you're here loving me'_

 _Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia_

 **12th February 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London**

Red curls bounced around slender shoulders as the little girl rushed along the hallways of the grand palace. Her dark eyes were alert and intelligent, eagerly drinking in her surroundings as she dashed after her Governess, pausing every now and then when she came across her favourite portraits. She was excited to see her Papa, but she was even more enthusiastic to see her Mama.

"Come along, Princess" called Margaret Bryan, her stern face softening as she looked at her young charge's eager face.

"Coming, coming. Muggie. Princess is coming" sang the young toddler, clapping her hands at the cleverest of her tune.

Lady Bryan smiled at her charge again, slowing down to take the young Princess' hand. She was an intelligent child, bright and eager to devour knowledge. She was certainly charming, and she was fairly obedient for her young age. Princess Elizabeth was a pretty child, slender and willowy like her mother but tall like her father. She had the bright red Tudor hair and her mother's piercing eyes. A perfect mix of Boleyn and Tudor, Margaret thought, squeezing her great-niece's hand.

Margaret had been ecstatic when her dear niece, Anne, had asked her to be Lady Governess to the Princess. It had been a great honour, one that came with the title of Baroness, and she was glad that she had taken it, pleased to have such a loving child in her care.

Margaret reached the large chambers of her Majesty and carefully instructed Elizabeth's attendants to go to the Royal Nursery and make sure everything was up to scratch, before turning to the oak door and knocking.

A thin, willowy lady with pretty blue eyes and dark hair opened the door, her lined face breaking into a large grin at the sight before her.

"Sister" smiled Margaret, releasing Elizabeth's hand to enclose her younger half-sister into a hug.

"Lady Grandmother" smiled Elizabeth, her hands reaching up for a cuddle with her kind grandmother.

Countess Boleyn smiled at her granddaughter's eagerness, sweeping her into her arms and kissing her face.

"My dear, dear Lizabeth, have you been a good girl? Are you excited to see your mama?" asked Countess Boleyn fondly, placing her little granddaughter back on the floor and smoothing out her green gown.

"Yes, Lady Grandmother, Lizabeth excited to see mama" squealed the Princess, screwing her nose as she felt someone ruffle her hair.

"Grandfather" she squealed, wrapping her arm round Thomas Boleyn's leg before thrusting out a palm.

"Awh Lizabeth, you need to be a very good girl when you go in to see Mama, she is very tired" Thomas said softly before indulgently placing a barley sugar in to Elizabeth's outstretched palm as she nodded solemnly.

"Come then, sweetheart" smiled Countess Boleyn, taking one of Elizabeth's hands as her husband took the other before they entered the Queen's private chambers, Baroness Bryan following after them.

 **XX**

 **12th February 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London**

"Your Majesty" curtsied the toddler, before whipping her head up and fleeing to her mother.

"Mama" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her thin mother.

"My dear Lizabeth" smiled her mother tiredly, stroking the red curls that adorned her daughter's head. She pulled Elizabeth close, allowing her to climb under the coverings of the bed and press against her tightly. Anne loved moments like this, where she felt like a mother rather than a Queen. Anne tiredly pressed a tender kiss to her daughter's forehead, before nodding gratefully at her mother and father by the side of her bed.

"Aunt" greeted Anne, acknowledging Margaret who stood properly by the side of the room, giving Anne space with her child.

"Majesty" curtsied Margaret, eyes crinkling at the sight of the mother and daughter in front of her.

Anne beckoned Margaret to her side, eager to hear about her darling child's progress. Every month, she awaited the Governess' letter containing news and it always saddened her that she couldn't see her child as often as she wished. If Anne had her own way, her children would remain by her side forever. Margaret sat in the armchair by the bedside, her thin lips already stretching into a smile.

"Madame, Princess Elizabeth is excelling as always. She enjoys English the best as she loves going through her hornbook. She can now do simple mathematic sums too! I have also begun to teach her simple French as you had asked. I would suggest, Your Majesty, that you look at employing a languages tutor for the Princess as well as a music teacher as these are both subject that the Princess is interested in".

Elizabeth grinned, knowing her mother would fuss her for doing well as always, and she was right as Anne kissed Elizabeth and whispered promises of new dresses and a rocking horse for her room.

The door swung open suddenly and the Earl and Countess of Wiltshire re-entered, both carrying a small bundle.

"Lizabeth" smiled Anne, taking one of the infants into her arm and pulling Elizabeth closer with her other one, "meet your baby brothers".

Elizabeth peered at the small baby in her mother's arm, her hand reaching out to stroke the tuft of hair on the babe's head. The baby looked just like her and it excited Elizabeth.

"This baby is called George" Anne said, readjusting the yawning babe in her arm, smiling as he peered at his big sister.

Elizabeth pouted, her brow furrowed.

"No, mama. Why does he have Uncle George's name?" questioned Elizabeth, angrily, poking baby George, her eyes widening as the babe burped loudly at her.

"Oh Lizabeth, sweetie, it's an honour for Uncle George to have the baby named after him" whispered Anne, hoping to pacify her sensitive daughter.

Elizabeth's face switched expressions quickly, a beam on her face.

"Oh Mama, that's nice. We can call the baby Georgie".

Countess Boleyn clapped, "Oh, what a clever idea! Prince Georgie, it is".

Thomas moved round to the other side of the spacious bed and showed Elizabeth the other child in his arms.

"And this Lizabeth, is your youngest brother, Louis".

 **XX**

 **14th February 1536, The Church of the Observant Friars, Greenwich, London**

The day of the twin' christening had arrived, and much to Henry's delight, his boys were only getting stronger and bigger as time went on, clearly thriving on their mother's milk. Anne, as customary, was not to be at the christening, recovering still from the traumatic birth. It did not bother Henry that Anne was not by his side, all he could focus on was the fact that the whole of Europe now knew his marriage was blessed and that England had two healthy boys.

The font, of silver, stood in the midst of the church three steps high, covered with a fine cloth. Over it hung a crimson satin canopy fringed with gold, and round it was a rail covered with red say. One side sat the proxies of the royals that had been invited as godparents to the twins and the other sat the godparents of nobility.

The Archbishop of Canterbury. Thomas Cranmer, cradled Prince George and the Bishop of London held Prince Louis. Princess Elizabeth was cradled in her grandfather's arms, carefully watching her brothers.

The babe's wailed loudly as the holy water was splashed onto their heads and the courtiers cheered, glad that their Princes were free from the Devil now. Princess Elizabeth wriggled angrily in her grandfather's arms before directing a well-placed kick at the Bishop of London for daring to make her brothers cry.

A herald blew his horn, and Thomas Cranmer stood to deliver the oaths to the godparents.

Henry smiled again. Elizabeth's christening had been a beautiful one and very expensive and her godparents were the Archbishop of Canterbury (who had escaped Elizabeth's kick) and the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk and the Marchionesses of Exeter and Dorset. But for his sons, everything was triple the expense and their godparents were royalty.

Prince George, as heir apparent, had Francis I of France and his namesake, George Boleyn – Viscount Rochford, as godfathers and Anne's dear friend, Marguerite of Navarre, and Jane Boleyn as godmothers.

Prince Louis' godfathers were James V of Scotland and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. His godmothers were Lady Margaret Douglas and Dowager Queen Margaret of Scotland.

And as the royal canopies were carried back toward the palace by the Knights of the Garter, voices from the gathering crowd were heard.

"God Bless Princess Elizabeth, God Bless Prince George and God Bless Prince Louis!"

 **XX**

 **17th January 1536, Palace of Placentia, Greenwich, London**

Once the Queen was churched, the court was moving to Hampton Court, the Queen's favourite residence. Princess Elizabeth and the boys were due to come with the court and spend a few days there before Elizabeth went back to Hatfield.

It had only been three days since the christening of the Princes and the day afterwards, the King had honoured Edward and Thomas Seymour places on the Privy Council, to George's horror. His father, Thomas, had all but commanded that George was not to tell Anne that this appointment was the result of the weak looking milksop opening her legs, in case it made her milk go funny. George always thought his father saw Anne as some weak child which irritated him, probably as much as it irritated her.

The unjust appointment of those Seymours had brought George and his partner-in-crime as well as wife, Jane to their chambers. George had paid off the staff in their household to leave the chambers unlocked and now they were both sneaking in.

"George, I really don't think we should be doing this" whispered Jane Boleyn, her green eyes narrowed at her husband's antics, her arms full of sheets.

"Hush Jane, it's only a little fun and they deserve it" snickered George, opening the door to their chambers and entering the room he knew was Jane Seymour's.

Jane Boleyn shrugged, she couldn't disagree with him on that even though her husband exasperated her. The little whore deserved it for sure. Dear Anne, was so kind to her, kinder than she needed to be to her sister-in-law, and it pleased Jane immensely. Anne was exactly the sort of person everyone wished they were and if they couldn't be like her then being her closest companion was the next best thing.

"Drop it on the bed" called George, rooting through Seymour's drawers before coming across what he wanted. The bible in Latin, a Roman Catholic's greatest possession. Another snigger rippled through him as he withdrew the bible and replaced it with Martin Luther's Protestant bible.

Jane dropped the sheets on the bed unceremoniously, a smirk playing at her face. It was times like this that she knew she loved George, they were so similar, cut from the same cloth. She pulled the top sheet off the bundle of cloths releasing the hundreds of spiders and insects.

"Come George, let's go. I feel that our chambers are awaiting" smirked Jane, tugging at George's palm, their gleeful eyes meeting as they ran from the chambers before running straight into someone.

"George, Jane, what are you doing in the Seymours' private chambers?" questioned Countess Elizabeth Boleyn, a thin brow raised at the redden faces of her son and daughter-in-law.

 **XX**

 _Notes: Please note that this chapter contains some time jumps (only consisting of a matter of days but I don't wish for anyone to be confused._

 _Margaret Bryan was created Baroness Bryan in 1516, upon being created Lady Governess to Princess Mary. In this story, Margaret Bryan was not the governess to Princess Mary and therefore the title was given in 1533 upon the birth of Princess Elizabeth._

 _ **As always, thank you all for your reviews, follows and favourites. It is truly motivational.**_

 _I love Kol Mikaelson_ _– I hope you like this chapter. I feel that you will. Thank you for taking the time to review._

 _Guest Reviewer_ _– I'm impartial to Jane Seymour. She is going to be morally grey like most people are. She has her good traits and she has her bad traits. If you have an account, please message me with your ideas for a comeuppance. I do think Henry needs to grow up but unfortunately, I think he will be a slow learner. Thank you for taking the time to review._

 _Kara_ _– I agree with you. I don't think an English prince would historically be named Louis, but I think it serves to show that Anne is hurting. I doubt she would want to name her child Henry or Edward (as that's what Henry wanted). I did consider William, but I have other plans for that name. I think Jane will get her comeuppance though. Thank you for taking the time to review._

 _Child Of Dreams_ _– Yes, Henry is a liar. Unfortunately for our main character, Henry is a very charming man and Anne loves him._


	5. Can't Pretend

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _But I guess that's love,_

 _I can't pretend'_

 _Can't Pretend by Tom Odell_

 **18** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

The gardens were stunning at this time of year, the pretty flowers beginning to blossom, welcoming in the Spring, sharing their beauty with the world. It was warm now which cheered Anne up to no end, as much as she loved the turbulent Winter weather, the recent Winter was a harsh time for her family. It had been 7 long weeks since the birth of the twins and one week since she had been churched and finally allowed to leave her chambers. It was Elizabeth's last day at Hampton before she made the long journey back to Hatfield. The boys would be following her to Hatfield at the end of April to avoid the terrible sickness August so often brought. Anne was clutching her darling daughter's small hand, slowly walking, pointing out the different types of flowers and birds that graced their grounds.

Hampton was beautiful, truly, a palace of art. Wolsey had had an eye for beauty, she had to admit. It was a beautiful place to have a picnic and she hoped it was moments like this that Elizabeth would remember when she was older. They slowly got to the place Anne wished to picnic at. It was opposite the garden of Tudor roses and in the bright sunshine. The guards with them arranged the seating, settling down cushions and rugs to sit on and setting up parasols to block the sun's rays. The group settled down and the servants started to offer round the food and drink.

Anne was happy to be surrounded by the people she loved most. Her father, Thomas, sat opposite her, one hand eating his scone and the other holding his wife's hand. He was dressed in his finest but looked remarkably at ease with the relaxed atmosphere. Elizabeth Boleyn was enjoying a glass of honeyed wine, reading from her novel. Jane Boleyn and George Boleyn were chatting animatedly under their breath about what Anne presumed was religion, which was her brother's favourite topic. They seemed remarkably happy now, having gotten over their scolding from the Countess. George had proudly proclaimed that the telling-off from his mother had been worth it, for little Jane Seymour's screams had been heard all over the palace.

Every now and then, she saw George take a bite out of Jane's cheese sandwich and Jane's indulgent smile at him. Her loyal ladies; Nan, Madge, Bess and Margaret Douglas – the King's niece, were enjoying the sun and the cupcakes. Her darling Elizabeth was sat on her lap with her cucumber sandwich, smiling charmingly at the group around her. Her dear Princes were laid carefully on the furs, their legs bared from their normal constricts, allowing them to kick freely in the warm weather, their nursemaids sitting closely with Margaret Bryan. Anne smiled, tilting her head towards the sun, enjoying the warm rays. She gently pulled her French hood off, allowing her raven locks to tumble down. Fondly, she watched Elizabeth copy her, removing the coif from her red curls.

A tall figure started walking towards them, her coif covering most of her mousy hair. Anne smiled delightedly, waving the woman over. The women walked to the large group, curtsying deeply.

"Lizabeth, Baroness Bryan is going to be in charge of Georgie now" Anne paused, allowing the idea to sink into her daughter's head. Margaret Bryan and Anne had already had the conversation, Anne had made clear that she needed someone she trusted completely with her son and heir and her aunt was the person for the position.

"A lady named Blanche Parry will be at Hatfield when you arrive back, she is to be Lady Governess to Louis. And this kind lady here is going to be your new governess as you are a big girl now. She is particularly talented at languages and this is a fantastic opportunity for you, Lizabeth. Her name is Lady Catherine Ashley".

Elizabeth waved happily, her mouth full of cucumber as she tried to pronounce the name Catherine.

"Try Kat" smiled the new governess, eager to make a good impression on both the Princess and the Queen.

"Kat Ashley at your service".

 **XX**

 **18** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Henry's deep blue eyes drifted over the thin form draped over him, his fingers brushing the soft curls that seemed to escape the braid she had tied it into. Her naked body was lithe, small but pert breasts and a flat stomach. She was milk- white, her body blending easily into the satin sheets. The aroma of lavender and sweat filled the air, reminding Henry of their love-making. Jane was sweet, docile even, definitely pleasing in bed, but she lacked the passion of his wife, who's love-making made him feel as though he had set his very soul on fire. Pale blue eyes fluttered, her lashes brushing her cheekbones before her eyes bore into his.

"Your Majesty?" questioned Jane, pulling the sheet over her naked body, feeling slightly self-conscious.

"Henry, please, my love" he smiled, before pulling her closer, enjoying the way she felt against him.

"Henry? Are you okay" she asked, placing a delicate kiss upon his collarbone, her fingers trailing the sharp edges of his strong shoulders.

"Jane…I wanted to ask you something" he paused, allowing her to sit up, "I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honour of being my maitresse en titre?".

A small but sure smile spread across Jane's thin lips as she meekly looked down at the bed, avoiding Henry's eyes, knowing her hesitation would make Henry want to increase the chances of her acceptance.

"Of course, I will make sure you are honoured at court. And I will give you an annual pension ever year. I will also grant you many beautiful gowns and grant your brothers some titles".

Henry knew he was rambling now, but he couldn't stop. He had to possess Jane, body and soul. He had always held a desire to control people, stemming from being second-best to his now-deceased brother. Jane knelt before him, placing her hands on either side of his face, before kissing him gently.

"Oh, Henry, I will be your Maitresse en titre".

 **XX**

 **18** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court, London**

"Anne, my sweetheart, I'm so sorry I am late" panted Henry, his face red from the exertion of running. He had been late to Anne's picnic due to being with his beautiful angel, Jane, and looking now at Anne's exquisite face and the excited smile of his daughter, he felt regret pang in his chest, before squashing down.

"Papa, come sit with me" cried Elizabeth, moving from her mother's lap to sprawl out on her father, vanilla frosting coating her mouth as she licked the buttercream off of her cupcake.

Henry grinned at his intelligent daughter, pretending to nibble at her cupcake, his hand reaching for Anne who seemed to have anticipated his move and had shifted away from him.

"Where were you, Henry?" hissed Anne, under her breath, her dark eyes stormy, her slim fingers pulling at the lace on her sapphire gown. Her voice was partly hidden by her long black hair, but he could see the red splashed upon her high cheekbones and he could recognise the strangled tone of voice.

Henry scowled, he knew she would question him. Anne did not know her place, she lacked boundaries. How dare she challenge him in front of his subjects! Jane wouldn't have dared ask him where he had been. He stared at her coldly for a moment, before breaking into a grin as a clever idea crossed his mind.

"My sweetheart, I have been procuring a gift for you to thank you for my beautiful children. I have asked Master Cromwell…" he turned his head sharply to Thomas Cromwell who was standing solemnly among the guards.

Henry continued, knowing he had Cromwell's full attention, "…to honour your father with the title of Duke of Wiltshire, and to give you three monasteries that we have redeemed from the evilness of the Catholic monks. They are yours to do with as you wish".

The genuine beam that crossed his wife's elegant face as she gazed her father's delighted face, warmed his heart. Now, he just had to keep her distracted, so he could spend more time with his angel.

 **XX**

 **21** **st** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Anne sat in her chambers, browsing through letters. She wanted a new musician for her own personal use, she had grown tired of having to summon one from the Great Hall every time she wished to hear some songs. The applications in front of her were numerous with letters coming from so many places; Scotland, France, even Germany.

By her side sat her sister-in-law, Viscountess Boleyn, her face stern and her tongue slipping between her lips as she concentrated on neatly writing back to the musicians Anne was interested in to invite them for an audience with her majesty. Madge sat by the fire, sewing shirts for the poor alongside Nan. They were to be given out after the Easter mass, with alms too.

Bess Holland was pouring over a poetry book, reading out loud her favourite ones (ones often by Thomas Wyatt), her cheeks red with animation. Margaret, the King's niece, sat fussing Anne's greyhound, Urian, and her spaniel, Purkoy. As usual, Jane Seymour was nowhere to be seen, much to Anne's indignation.

Sighing, she placed the letters for the musicians down tiredly and picked up the larger pile consisting of people wishing to get a coveted position of Maid-of-honour or Lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Her eyes skimmed the neat calligraphy, scribbling down names that sparked her interest. She sighed again, irritated by the false praise and promised that were offered should Anne offer a position to their daughters or wives. That was, until, her dark eyes fell upon a name…

 _Lady Elizabeth Ughtred (nee Seymour)._

A sudden rap at the door made Anne jump, her face pinched with concern as her uncle entered the chamber.

"Your Majesty" Thomas Howard swept into a bow, kissing his niece's delicate hand. His clever blue eyes darted over his niece, making Anne uncomfortable. It almost made Anne uncomfortable as if he was searching her weaknesses…for the right place to stick a knife.

"Uncle" Anne said warmly, pulling the Duke of Norfolk into a hug. Her dark eyes probed his, searching for what he wanted.

Thomas smiled a wolfish grin, his eyes raking over Anne looking at the deep purple of her tight gown and the exquisite amethyst choker around her slender neck, watching as the gem bobbed as she swallowed.

"As I understand, dear niece, you are looking for some more attendants" he paused, Anne's brow raising in expectation.

"Your Grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk requested that you visit her household at Lambeth, where there are a great many young members of nobility who would be delighted to be given the honour of a position within your great household. The Dowager said she would go with you to help weed out the useless girls", a look of mirth crossed Thomas' face, knowing how thorny his step-mother could be. She often complained of useless relations draining her but spoke with great pride of how high her favourite grandchildren, Anne and George, had risen.

When Anne didn't answer, Thomas continued, "Anne, there are many Howards there that could benefit from being at court".

Anne nodded thoughtfully, "Please ask Grandmama to accompany me to Lambeth next week".

 **XX**

 _To come in the next chapter: Anne Boleyn and The Dowager visit Lambeth (who knows which Howard they meet), a betrothal is made for one of the royal children, and Mary Tudor makes an appearance._

 _Notes: There is a small time jump in this chapter (only a matter of weeks though)._

 _Disclaimer – I do not own British history or Showtime's The Tudors._

 _QueenAnneTudor_ _– The Seymours are still very much in favour at the moment and I'm sure Henry's pride would not see through their web tangle yet. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Child Of Dreams_ _– Henry will get his comeuppance at some point but unfortunately not yet. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Guest_ _– Jane will receive her dues but not yet…Thank you for reviewing._

 _Kara_ _– Unfortunately The Seymours will not get their downfall yet (and I'm still trying to decide whether some of them are redeemable and what my end-game will be). Thank you for reviewing,_

 _I Love Kol Mikaelson_ _– Elizabeth will definitely be a fantastic big sister as the years go by. And Jane and George Boleyn are two of my favourite people to write…hopefully we will see more of their spirit as time goes on._

 _Please continue reviewing, it is such a gift to a writer and it is truly motivational. Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows._


	6. Lies

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _You're never gonna love me, so what's the use?_

 _What's the point in playing a game you're gonna lose'_

 _Lies by Marina and the Diamonds_

 **26** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Her dark eyes watched the rain forlornly, her slim fingers curled against the cold window pane, the dark skies alerting to the fact it was also certain to thunder tonight. Her black hair tumbled around her shoulders, as gloomy as her current mood. Her husband had declined to dine with her last night, citing a privy council meeting as an excuse. But he was idiotic, George was on the privy council and George had came to her rooms last night seeking his wife. She knew he was with Mistress Seymour, although she pretended she did not realise the whore was absent from her duties. A voice stirred her from her morose thoughts, piercing the fog of loneliness.

"Annie, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?" questioned her mother, Elizabeth's pretty face lined with worry as she peered at her daughter.

Anne looked poorly; she had lost all of her pregnancy weight and even more on top of it. The ladies were beginning to whisper about how pronounced her ribs were and how her high cheekbones were gaunt and sharp. Her skin was paler than usual with permanent black shadows under her dark eyes. And her lips were chapped and split. She dressed simply, favouring her gowns from before she was Queen. Elizabeth gently approached her youngest daughter, placing a comforting hand upon her thin shoulder.

Anne nodded sharply, feeling her eyes begin to sting as they filled with tears. She turned away from her mother, pressing her forehead against the window pane, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Elizabeth pulled Anne to her, pulling her close, allowing her child to cry into her as she once had done as a child. Her breathing was ragged as she sobbed, "Mama, I fear he does not love me anymore".

Elizabeth felt her heart break for her dear daughter, as she rocked her gently, kissing her hair.

"Oh Annie, what has he done to you?".

 **XX**

 **26** **th** **March 1536, Hatfield House, Hertfordshire**

Mary was tired, her eyes stung and her back cried out with pain. She ached all over, but she knew she would not be allowed a break. Anne Shelton, the head of her half-sister, Elizabeth's household, had commanded her to stand and scrub dishes like some common scullery maid. All she had done was refuse to call her bastard sister a Princess. She loved Elizabeth dearly, she was a precocious and loving toddler, untainted by her mother's poison. But she was a bastard. When Mary became Queen, she would be kind. Elizabeth would be given a position of honour as her sister, perhaps as chief lady of the bedchamber and perhaps with a noble title too, but she wouldn't be allowed a royal title as bastard.

Anger boiled through her veins at the indignation she suffered under the hands of that concubine. Mary was a Princess of blood, born to the greatest Queen England had ever had. If her father had not fallen under that Boleyn whore's spell, then Mary would still be the pearl of his world. She had heard rumours though, through other ladies here, that despite the concubine having borne her father two bastard sons, he was quite in love with a fair lady called Mistress Seymour.

Chapuys had told Mary that this Mistress Seymour was a devout Catholic and had been a loyal lady of Mary's deceased mother, Catherine of Aragon. Chapuys had promised Mary that Mistress Seymour had said that she was going to ask her father to allow Mary to court.

Mary knew if she just spoke to her Papa, then he would stop all these punishments and allow his pearl back into his life as his Princess. She just had to be patient…

Her time was coming.

 **27** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Anne felt herself yawn as she kicked off the heavy satin sheets from her body. She was exhausted still; her night had been full of bad dreams. Dreams in which the King grew tired with her, and more enamoured with that Seymour milksop. Dreams in which her Henry ordered her head to be separated from her body and bastardised her beloved children.

She shivered, it had been so real, she could picture the scaffold, and hear the whistling of the sword as it swung through the air. She pulled her large overcoat round her slim shoulders, drawing the furs tight. She fled the bedchambers silently, hoping not to wake Nan.

She knew that she loved and feared Henry, in equal parts, for he was a fickle and easily-swayed man. His adoration of that Seymour bitch threatened Anne's position as his wife and her children's positions as his heirs. Anne knew she wasn't intelligent enough to have thought up this scheme herself, although Anne had to admit she had some measure of charm. One of her brothers must have come up with this plan of play.

Picking up a piece of parchment, Anne knew that she needed to protect herself and her children. She had a plan and it was time to put it into action. Scrawling four items onto the paper, she sat back pleased. Her dark eyes scanned the etchings on the parchment.

Anne sighed, knowing the next tasks would not be so easy to complete. But it would greatly help both herself and her children secure their positions and the affection of King Henry. With a heavy heart, Anne sat down to write a letter to the lady Mary.

 **XX**

 **28** **th** **March 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Anne's dark eyes flickered towards her husband, a serene smile on her face. She had tried to make herself look attractive today. She need her husband to listen to her and she knew Henry listened with his eyes. She had chosen to bathe in milk and honey and had sprayed herself with a perfume of rose water. She dressed elegantly in a gown of red, with a beautiful necklace of rubies around her slender neck and a tiara set with rubies adorning her raven locks.

Reaching across the table, she placed her hand in Henry's and smiled lovingly at him.

"Henry, I wished to talk to you about something".

Henry grunted, tearing into the duck breast on the table, ignoring his wife's efforts and her beseeching eyes. His gaze was on pretty Jane Seymour, who was stood by the door. She looked angelic in her cream serving gown, around her neck sat his newest gift. A specialised commissioned locket with a portrait of himself inside it. Luckily his wife had been too busy to have noticed him doting on her, or so he thought.

"Henry, I wished to talk about a betrothal for our daughter. Elizabeth deserves a handsome and kind man. I thought Charles de Valois was a suitable choice. He is now the Duke of Orleans and he is only ten years older than Elizabeth…", Anne trailed off, hoping Henry would wisely agree to look into arranging a betrothal.

Henry paused, his eyes flickering to his wife. He realised that she looked beautiful today and a strange ache filled his chest. He missed her, he realised. Anne had always been like fire, you were drawn to her…

"I will write to Francis" smiled Henry, encouragingly, knowing how nervous Anne would be, especially after last time. This time was different though, although she wasn't the only person in his heart, she had secured her position as Queen.

The aching intensified when she gave him one of her dazzling grins, her dark eyes drawing him in. He wished for nothing more than to send all of the servants from this room, draw up her gown and fuck her right on the table…

But he couldn't, there was still four and a half months to go. Swallowing down his desire, he gestured at Jane to follow him to his chambers once dinner had ceased.

 **XX**

 **28** **th** **March 1536, Norfolk House, Lambeth**

The girls were so excited. Her Majesty, the Queen would be coming to visit them at Norfolk House to choose one of them to be her lady at court. It was a massive opportunity and not one that would likely come again.

Everyone wanted the coveted position once the Dowager Duchess had sent a letter to their chaperone informing them of the upcoming visit. Chaperone Branch had made it clear that misbehaviour would not be tolerated and embarrassing their patron, Dowager Duchess Agnes, would have severe repercussions. Chaperone Branch had always been strict, and her beating were often awful.

Kitty shivered at the thought of the time, Chaperone Branch had caught her sneaking an extra biscuit. She had been caned so badly, she couldn't sit for three whole days. She remembered her brother, Charlie, creeping into her dormitory late at night to bring her soothing cream to help with the bruising.

It was Kitty's biggest wish to go to court with her cousin, the Queen. She was desperate to see the beautiful ladies in their fine clothes and dance and sing without having to visit Mannox for his lessons. She shuddered at the thought of Mannox and his painful hands, pushing it to the back of her mind with the rest of the things she wished to forget that had happened to her. She smoothed down the skirt of her yellow gown. It was a little tatty now, the Dowager Duchess was frugal with money and did not like to part with it for being she did not think was worth it. But Kitty knew that if she was chosen, she would be given a whole new wardrobe of beautiful dressed.

She smiled kindly, waving at her friend Joan as she stood in line. The oak doors creaked out loudly and Kitty saw her grandmother, the Dowager Duchess enter. Her face was heavily lined as she appraised the girls before her, her cane poking at the ones that were not standing properly. The Dowager stopped in front of Kitty and Kitty thought her heart would leap out of her chest. One word from her grandmother and she would have to go back to her rooms after not being deemed good enough to meet her cousin.

Instead a rare smile flickered over Agnes' face as her sharp eyes fell upon her thirteen-year-old granddaughter, Katherine.

"Make me proud, Howard" she croaked, as she gestured to Chaperone Branch to allow the Queen entry and settled down onto her armchair.

Kitty's eyes widened as the Queen entered. She was everything Kitty had imagined. She was every inch a royal with her exquisite features and her flowing ebony hair and dark eyes. The tiara on her hair accented her beauty. She smiled kindly at the girls before her and Kitty could feel herself shaking as her cousin finally reached her.

"And your name is?" questioned Anne, her eyes flickering over the pretty girl in front of her.

"That is your cousin, Katherine Howard, your Majesty. Her father, although a wastrel, is brother to your mother" answered Agnes, her eyes boring into Kitty, ensuring that she would not make a mistake and embarrass anyone.

Anne smiled kindly, her hand reaching out to Kitty, "and Katherine, what would be your greatest wish?".

"Kitty, please. It would mean more than anything if I were chosen to serve you, your Majesty".

Anne's eyes searched Kitty's young ones.

"And what would be your favourite thing about going to court?".

Kitty's words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them, "the pretty gowns" she exclaimed.

Agnes gasped, her eyes narrowing at her foolish granddaughter. But before she could reprimand Kitty, Anne began to laugh.

"Yes, the fashion at court is lovely. I think you would be a good fit, Mistress Howard".

Kitty's heart leapt…" Am I to come to court then? Can my brother come too?".

Anne beamed at her younger cousin's bluntness. She would be interesting to have around for sure and grateful enough to remain loyal to her. Besides, Katherine's enthusiasm reminded her of her darling Lizbeth.

"Yes, Kitty, you are to be my maid-of-honour. I'm sure his Majesty could find a position for your brother too".

Kitty's eyes widened, Queen Anne was truly a dream granter. She wouldn't have to wear tatty gowns or attend lessons with Mannox or have to feel Durham's disgusting hands on her again. Before she could stop herself, Kitty threw her arms around her cousin.

"Thank you so much. Thank you".

 **XX**

 _Next Time: Mary Tudor receives a letter, Kitty Howard makes a friend, Edward Seymour has an important meeting to attend, a pregnancy is revealed and Francis I of France sends a response._

 _Notes: Disclaimer – I do not own British History or Showtime's The Tudors._

 _The characters are all based on The Tudors actors that played them, the only difference is that I have changed Anne's eye colour to brown instead of the blue held by the beautiful Natalie Dormer._

 _You guys are very lucky indeed, I am updating this story almost daily!_

 _I Love Kol Mikaelson_ _– Henry suffers from a narcissism, this means he would not think Anne is clever enough to catch him out. Anne, of course, knows. Agnes Tilney-Howard, The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, was Anne Boleyn's step grandmother and was godmother to Princess Elizabeth. Contemporary accounts show that she was fairly close to Anne Boleyn. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Child Of Dreams_ _– Things are not getting better for Mary just yet. Although a certain Duke may make an appearance. Thank you for reviewing._

 _QueenAnneTudor_ _– Henry definitely needs to buck up his ideas. Anne loves him dearly (far more than he loves her). I think Edward Seymour will have another plan up his sleeve if Jane falls. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Guest_ _– Thomas Boleyn was a family man and was supposedly a fairly loving father for those times. I rather enjoy the Boleyn family as a whole so will be depicting them with their talents and their flaws. Thomas Boleyn was certainly a liked figure around court. I do wish to show lots of the relationship between Anne and her mother. Elizabeth Boleyn must have been a terribly loving mother. After her children were sent to the tower, she fell into ill health and remained poorly until her death in 1538. Jane Parker and George Boleyn will be given a happier ending in this story. I also am keen to show women supporting women and Jane and Anne were fantastic friends (Jane even got into trouble for helping Anne to get rid of one of Henry's mistresses). George was a very likable man and there is evidence to suggest George and Jane had a fairly amicable marriage. I'm so glad you are enjoying my story and I hope to read another one of your reviews, if only because I ADORE talking about history to people who also love my babies too! Thank you for your lovely and knowledgeable review! X_

 _Guest_ _– Edward Seymour is definitely the Seymour to watch. Unlike his brother, he appears to have been calculating and careful (in contrast to Thomas' impulsiveness). Jane will not be beheaded in this story, but she will play a very important role. Muggle... that made me laugh. Although I have considered writing for the Harry Potter fandom. Thank you for taking the time to review._

 _Guest_ _– Sorry that you find Jane so irritating. Unfortunately, Henry needs a mistress while Anne is unavailable. I think the innocent act will work for a while longer. Thank you for your review._


	7. Hallelujah

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _Love is not a victory march,_

 _It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah'_

 _Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley_

 **10** **th** **April 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Kitty loved court, she adored the fashionable ladies and the charming gentlemen, she relished the revelries and the walks in the garden, she even enjoyed visiting the Princes' in their little nursery. But most of all, she loved the approving look in her Uncle and Grandmother's eyes, she was making them proud and Kitty was sure the Queen appreciated her company. Her cousin, the Queen had been so kind, ordering gowns and accessories for Kitty from her own purse. She had even discreetly arranged reading and writing lessons for Kitty with a lady she knew. Kitty was grateful she wouldn't have a male tutor, knowing what she knew now. She was excited to begin her lessons at the end of May and eager to prove to the Queen she was worth the maid of honour position the Queen had given her.

Her pretty blue eyes flickered around the room at the dancing couples. Kitty wanted to dance more than anything, but she knew she must wait for an invitation. She scoured the crowds, searching for her brother, desperate to have fun. From the corner of the room, she currently occupied she could see the Queen dancing happily with her brother. Queen Anne Boleyn was famed for her dancing and Kitty could see why. Both her and George looked as though they were made to dance, as though they were weightless. Anne was elegant and graceful on her feet, her dark red skirts twirling around her and George was confident and talented, throwing smiles toward his enigmatic sister.

She spotted her brother near the large bay window and she darted towards him, swerving past courtiers with ease.

"Charlie!" she called, her smile wide as she hugged him.

"Kitty, don't you look glorious" marvelled Charlie, knowing Kitty would appreciate the compliment. His little sister was sweet and naïve and cared for only for the good. Their cousin had found places for both of them at court and had paid for them both to be kitted out with everything their positions needed, and Charlie was immensely grateful to Anne for that. Kitty had been scared and quiet at Lambeth but now she was bright and free, like a new rose in bloom, a rose without thorns.

Kitty's cheeks pinked slightly at the kind words, and she twirled to show him all the beautiful embroidery on her emerald gown. She grabbed his hand tightly.

"Kitty, this is Henry Brandon. The Duke of Suffolk's son" introduced Charlie, hoping Kitty didn't embarrass him in front of the Earl.

Kitty's smile widened, and she curtsied deeply, she knew the Duke was important to the King even if he drove the Queen insane. But Kitty knew not to mention that.

"Mistress Howard, would you like to dance?" queried Hal, his eyes clever, noting the slight bouncing in Kitty's step and the way her eyes lit up as she glanced towards the dance floor. His father and stepmother would not be impressed with his fraternising with the Queen's relations, but his father was nowhere to be seen.

Kitty nodded eagerly, grasping his hand in the most un-lady-like way as she pulled him towards the dance floor. She entered his arms careful, her eyes dancing with mirth, mirroring her exuberance. As they began the Galliard, she murmured her thanks at being asked to dance.

Hal flushed, his fingers gently tightening against hers.

"Well I had to get at least one dance with the prettiest girl in the room"

 **XX**

 **13** **th** **April 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Prince Georgie was filling out rapidly, his little fat legs kicking excitedly in the air as he rested on his mother's lap. His dark eyes stared at his mother, attempting to mimic her facial expressions. She smiled down her him, her eyes crinkling as she ran her slim fingers through his growing red curls. Georgie and Louis were almost three months and they amazed Anne with how they changed every day.

Little Louis, still smaller than his brother, was cooing up at Kitty who was singing to him gently, swaying him from side to side.

Anne smiled at her dear cousin, she was a delightful girl, happy and deeply loyal. She looked to Anne as a mother and Anne certainly felt maternal towards her. Kitty was young and child-like. Far too naïve to be in this court but she was happy and that's what Anne cared about.

"Oh Kitty, you are a natural" exclaimed Anne, watching how tenderly she held Louis.

Kitty's blue eyes shot up towards her cousin, and she flushed red. "With so many siblings, Madame, I had to be" she grinned, tugging a lock of her mousy hair from Louis' fist.

Anne nodded kindly at Kitty, before turning towards her father who was sat ever so awkwardly in the small nursery. Her father was a doting grandfather, but he much preferred them when they could talk. Secretly, Anne thought Lizabeth was his favourite.

"Oh Papa, surely you can see how much this would mean to me" sighed Anne, her dark eyes resting on the little babe in her arms.

"Annie, sweetheart, you know Mary cannot come back. She dishonoured us, betrayed us" murmured Thomas, his eyes glassy with what Anne thought was tears.

It was true, Mary had embarrassed her family, marrying a lowly soldier by the name of Stafford. She had been disowned and banished for almost two years now and Anne desperately missed her older sister and her niece and nephew.

"Papa, it would make me very happy. Mary was my chief lady and I knew I could trust her with anything. I need her, here. We can petition the King to grant Stafford a title, so she wouldn't be too shameful", Anne could hear herself whining, attempting to appease her father.

Thomas' sharp eyes drifted over his youngest daughter. She was his favourite child, so clever, so ambitious. She had always made him proud, even from the cradle. He could still remember leaning over the crib for the first time when she was three months old, he had been so disappointed that she had been a girl, but laying in the crib staring back at him was a tiny girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She had not only gripped his finger that day, but his heart with it. He couldn't deny her anything.

"I will send a letter to Mary" he promised, standing quickly, wanting to get this task over with. He gently kissed Anne's forehead and waved kindly at little Kitty.

"Thank you, Papa" whispered Anne, cradling Georgie to her chest. She hoped to God that Mary answered their letter and came back. Anne needed her sister and in truth, she missed her dearly too.

 **XX**

Cromwell's tired eyes stared at the patents before him, the flickering candle light made it even more difficult to focus on the scrawls. His partner, Richard Rich, sat by him, helping him to organise and reply to letters.

Cromwell's calloused hands caressed the fine parchment that contained the deed to Bourne Abbey in Lincolnshire and Canons Ashby Priory in Northamptonshire. This were the religious houses the King was gifting to his wife to do with as she pleased as a reward for the birth of his princes. Cromwell knew though, that it was really an attempt to keep that harpy busy. She was far too opinionated for Cromwell, she needed to learn that her place as Queen was merely to look pretty and bear heirs. Although Cromwell conceded that she was intelligent and that she had helped him into his position as Chancellor of the Exchequer, she was now proving to be a royal pain in the arse.

"Are you thinking about her again?" chuckled Richard upon hearing Cromwell's sigh. He scowled at his dear friend, drinking deeply from his goblet.

"She's always in your thoughts, if you weren't so…well if you weren't you, I would have thought you had taken a fancy to her" chortled Richard, draining his chalice as he set it down.

Cromwell scowled again, his eyes narrowed at his friend, "Rich, you know I think she is nothing but an irritating thorn in my side, regardless of how much she thinks she is helping. If she and her sharp tongue could take a lovely walk in the garden forever, I would appreciate it".

"Crom…you speak so lovingly of her" teased Richard, stretching his arms and dabbing his quill back into the ink.

Cromwell rolled his eyes, admittedly she wasn't an eyesore, but her personality was a deterrent to any man with brains. He continued to sift through the papers on his bureau.

"Crom, you need to see this" exclaimed Richard, waving around a letter.

Cromwell sighed, wondering what on earth could have gone wrong now, before setting his own pile of papers in front of the crackling fire. He whipped the parchment from Rich's hand, surprised at the quality of the paper. His dark eyes read the swirling calligraphy.

 _We invited you to our royal court at the Palace of Fontainebleau to discuss the betrothal of Princess Elizabeth Tudor to Charles de Valois, Duke of Orleans._

 **XX**

 **17** **th** **April 1536, Hatfield House, Hertfordshire**

"How dare she! How dare she!" shouted Mary in frustration, pacing backwards and forwards in her small room.

Chapuys' eyes followed Mary, watching her flush in anger as she threw the letter in the crackling log fire.

"Princess, if I may" …began Chapuys, before he was cut off by Mary's ranting.

"Asks me to reconsider taking the oath and to acknowledge my half siblings as heirs to the throne. Apologises for her inconsiderate behaviour. Begs me to be careful as my father is growing tired with my stubbornness. How dare she, a daughter of a knight, write to me. She is but a whore".

Chapuys sighed deeply, he knew this wasn't going to be an easy thing for Mary to hear. But he also knew a lot of things now that he did not know before.

"Princess, I think you should at least respond to her. The concubine may be evil, but I think she is right about your father. He is volatile, and he is growing angrier with you" he paused to allow her to consider what he is saying.

"We were wrong about Mistress Seymour, she has held his eye for more than six months yet and she and her family have been showered with gifts. Yet she still has not spoken up for you".

Mary's face paled as she played with the rosary around her slim neck.

"Princess…" paused Chapuys, his eyes downcast. Mary looked sharply at him, urging him to continue.

"Your uncle is withdrawing his threats of war. He is willing to acknowledge her as Queen. Particularly now she has had those brats… Rumour has it that The French King is discussing a betrothal between the harlot's daughter and his son, Prince Charles. Other countries are now sending ambassadors to start to discuss betrothals between her sons and their daughters. He feels he has no other option and he cannot allow France to beget an English Princess and Prince".

She felt faint, and heard a loud wail before she realised she was the one emitting the embarrassingly weak noise. Bile rose in her throat, stinging and burning its way.

"So, I am alone" whispered Mary, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"No, child, you have me. You will always have me" comforted Chapuys, taking her hands in his gently.

"Oh Eustace, what will I do?" she sobbed, allowing him to cradle and rock her in his arms like she was a child, and he, her father.

"Maria, you need to sign".

 **XX**

 **18** **th** **April 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London**

Three gold coins were carefully counted and placed into the old lady's wrinkled hand. Jane Parker carefully unlaced her cream gown until she was in her white cotton shift. Her blue eyes darted around nervously as she lay gently onto the bed.

"How long has your courses been gone?" questioned the elderly woman, her eyes narrowed as she emptied her bag and checked the urine that Jane had given her.

"Since January" whispered Jane, "I waited as my courses are not regular anyway".

The elderly lady raised her brow, before nimbly washing her hands in the bowl Jane had left on the side.

"And why did you not seek me out before" asked the lady, kneeling onto the fine bed.

Jane's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she felt the lady lift her shift to above her stomach. Her cold hands roamed Jane's abdomen, pressing lightly.

"Because, I…I just thought it was normal".

The lady tutted, before drawing down Jane's smallclothes. Jane gasped as she felt the lady's knobbly figures probe her before they withdrew quickly.

"I would say, you are 12 weeks…give or take a month. I advise that you visit me after the birth of the babe and I will give you an 'erb to regulate your courses. Make sure you avoid water and drink only sweetened wines".

Jane smiled kindly at the lady, dressing quickly, her face reddened. She quickly pressed an extra two gold coins into the lady's hand.

"Thank you, thank you so much" rejoiced Jane, her hand going to her stomach.

The elderly lady nodded before opening the chambers down. The tall handsome male waiting outside came rushing in, his eyes wide.

"What did she say?" questioned the male, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

"George, you are going to be a father" grinned Jane Parker.

 **XX**

 **23** **rd** **April 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Anne was bereft today, she had said goodbye to her darling sons this morning, waving them off as they were taken to Hatfield to join their sister. _Sisters_ , corrected Anne, her eyes narrowed. She had still not heard from the Lady Mary and she was beginning to think she wouldn't now. She focused on her needlework, she was sewing shirts for the poor and she wanted them to look nice. Her eyes scanned the room, Jane Seymour was missing as usual and Jane Boleyn had claimed sickness. _To be fair, Jane did look very nauseous._ Bess Holland was currently instructing Kitty and Madge on the dance movies to the Pavane. The other ladies were all working on their embroidery or on the shirts for the poor. But Nan was missing…

"Lord Edward Seymour, here to see you, your Majesty" called Nan, escorting a scowling Lord Seymour into the room. He dropped into a very stiff bow, glaring at the top of Anne's head.

"Nan, would you please ask all my ladies to leave the room and then come back in" asked Anne, politely, as she stood, placing her needlework to the side.

Edward's green eyes drank her in, as if she were a fine whiskey. He had to admit she was an attractive woman. Slender figure with exquisite features and enchanting eyes. _Witch eyes, Jane had told him._ She smoothed the wrinkles from her purple gown and then she gently stroked her greyhound's head. Edward almost shivered then, he hated dogs for the filthy slobbery beasts they were.

"Please sit, Lord Seymour" smiled Anne, wolfishly. She gestured towards the regal armchair opposite her as she sat, upright and alert.

He sat down careful, eyes trained on the beast beside her.

"Your Majesty, I wondered why you requested a meeting with me" he murmured, his eyes following the pearl necklace that sat upon her ivory skin.

Anne smirked, her delicate hands pouring out a honeyed wine for them both, her eyes flickering to see Nan stood by the door.

"I wish to create an alliance. You are an intelligent man by all accounts, Lord Seymour" she paused, allowing the words to wash over him, watching as he relaxed. She could've laughed, men were so easy to manipulate. A little flattery and they were putty in her hands.

She sipped at her wine, "You know my husband will get bored of your sister. There is nothing interesting about her at all. She may have kept him for six months, but I have kept his heart for twelve years. I have birthed him sons. You know he will marry her off to a minor lord and after that, your prospects decline".

Edward's eyes lazily looked over the queen. He had underestimated the damn woman. She had the brains of a man, she certainly played the game of politics like a man.

"And what did you want from me?" drawled Edward.

"I want you to report your sister's comings and goings to me. I want to watch your father and brother for me. Secretly, of course. And when the time is right, I want you to encourage your whore of a sister to take a gentleman that will reside in the country. I do not wish to see her face again".

Edward smiled over the rim of his glass, "And what, my Queen, will you give me?".

Anne's brow raised at his bluntness, a small smirk pulling across her beautiful face.

"My Lord Seymour, I will make you one of the right-hand men of my son, George, when he takes the throne".

 **XX**

 _Note: I know that Henry Brandon is historically dead at this point (1523-1534) but I need him alive…for now._

 _Notes: Disclaimer – I do not own Showtime's The Tudors or British History._

 _This chapter introduces some new characters and I hope you all enjoy it._

 _Please review. Thank you to all my readers who have reviewed, favourited and followed my story. It means a lot to me._

 _I Love Kol Mikaelson_ _– Kitty is such a lovely character to write. Considering she is a thirteen-year-old girl, I can imagine her excitement at meeting the Queen. I hope you enjoy Anne in this chapter, I think she may be getting her fire back. Poor Mary Tudor just wants some loving. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Child of Dreams_ _– Mary Tudor definitely shouldn't blame Anne for everything but unfortunately, she's just a young girl who still wants to believe her dad loves her. Thank you for reviewing._

 _QueenAnneTudor_ _– Thank you for reviewing._

 _xLittlexBirdx_ _– I'm so glad you are enjoying my story so far. I'm trying to make the characters as believable as possible so that means even my two favourites will have flaws. Thank you for reviewing and I hope you continue to enjoy my story._

 _Kara_ _– Kitty will be happier, but I haven't decided how yet (but anything is better than being beheaded as a young naïve teenager/young adult. There will be a Culpepper lurking though. Hope you like the Seymours scene. And poor Anne has reached out to Mary Tudor, but we all know how stubborn Mary is! Thank you for reviewing._

 _Next time: The English Court goes to France; Thomas Boleyn is made a duke and Anne starts working on her plans for the abbeys. Sickness strikes Tudor London._


	8. The Sound Of Silence

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _Hello darkness, my old friend_

 _I've come to talk with you again'_

 _The Sound Of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel_

 _._

 **8** **th** **May 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

"Anne, do you know what you are doing?" questioned Agnes Tilney, sharply, her eyes narrowed as she stared at her granddaughter. Her knobbly hand gripped the silver cane in agitation.

"Annie, I must concur. Edward Seymour is a slippery man. He may have pledged his allegiance, but he is a Seymour" cautioned Thomas Boleyn, his face staring out at the window, looking forlornly at the beautiful gardens below. He dared not forbid Anne from fraternising with Lord Seymour, he knew from experience his children did not like to be commanded or being ordered about. He could only hope his dear wife would be able to persuade their headstrong daughter that Edward Seymour was dangerous.

"Annie, darling, I do think you may have disregarded his loyalty to his family" murmured Elizabeth Boleyn. The Countess' hand gently gripped her daughter's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

Anne sighed heavily, shrugging away from her mother. Her dark eyes peered over her chambers, watching each member of her family shift uncomfortably under her stormy gaze. Her grandmother, Agnes, was the only one that dared meet her eye, staring unnervingly back at her. Her parents sat, nervously by her side, her mother's face bleak and drawn. Her uncle, Thomas Howard, was staring at the flickering fire, drawing deep gulps from his goblet. By his side, sat little Kitty and her brother, Charlie. And next to them was a pale looking Jane Boleyn and Anne's beloved brother, George. George was playing no attention to anything around him, staring at his newest book by Martin Luther And curiously, Jane's hand was resting on her stomacher. It was a family meeting and the only member not present, that was currently at court, was Madge who had been asked to collect Anne's patent of abbeys from Cromwell.

"I know what I'm doing. I am not a foolish child. Edward Seymour may be slippery, but he is intelligent and very ambitious. It is better to have a man like that on your side rather than against you. The Seymours will crumble under the mentorship of Sir John and that idiot, Thomas Seymour. Edward has proved to be fast and accurate in his reports so far. Besides from what I heard, Sir John had relations with Edward's ex-wife. I doubt that leads to secure family ties." Anne's tone was sharp, warning almost.

Thomas Howard suddenly looked up, a smirk apparent on his face as he looked upon Anne, "my dear niece is right. The elder Seymour is useful to our cause. The younger brother is a liability. We shall offer what we can to Lord Edward for as long as he remains useful. After all, we don't need to keep any promises, do we...".

 **XX**

 **13** **th** **May 1536, Hampton Court Palace Gardens, London**

The gardens were beautiful at this time of year and Anne adored the light breeze that stopped the heavy sun from becoming too hot. Dearest Kitty was running around, chasing Purkoy around and around, much to the delight of the spaniel. Madge was walking Urian, who seemed very irritated by his companion's yapping. Her other ladies were wandering round enjoying the garden and the fresh blooms.

A tall woman, with three children following her, approached Anne, who was sitting comfortably upon the grass making daisy chains.

"Anne?".

Anne's head whipped up so fast at the familiar voice, she heard her neck crack. Her sister stood before her, her head held high. Her sister had changed since she had last seen her two years ago. Her face was tanned and rounder, and her body was curvaceous rather than slim now after bearing three children. Her clothes were simple and unfashionable, and she wore nothing on her tangle of coffee coloured curls. But she looked happy, her eyes were bright.

"Mary" whispered Anne, her dark eyes staring at her sister, afraid that if she looked away she'd disappear. Suddenly she noticed the three children behind her sister. Cathy was a tall, willowy twelve-year-old, who greatly resembled her mother with her bright blue eyes, pale complexion and chocolate brown hair. Harry was a tall strapping ten-year-old boy with dark hair and the green eyes of his late father, Carey. But cuddled in Cathy's arms was a young child of two or three with wide dark eyes and pale blonde hair.

"I'm so sorry, Mary" whispered Anne, not sure whether her sister would take a hug from her kindly or not.

"Oh Anne, it's okay. I understand. It hurt but I forgive you because I missed you so much" sobbed Mary, throwing her arms around her sister and pulling her close.

Tears rolled down Anne's face as she hugged her older sister.

"Anne, you remember Henry" smiled Mary, proudly as she pulled Harry forwards, glad that he bowed immediately and kiss Anne's ringed fingers. Anne smiled kindly at her nephew, who was all crooked smiles and gentle eyes.

"And Catherine", Cathy stepped forwards, keeping a careful grip on the toddler in her arms, and curtsied deeply to her aunt, curious blue eyes trained on Anne.

"Anne, I was hoping you could find a position for Cathy at court" inquired Mary, trying to not to plead with her younger sister. She couldn't bear to be parted from her eldest child who had been such a help and comfort to her during her banishment.

Anne smiled brightly at her sister and her niece, "Cathy can be one of my maids of honour. Our cousin, Kitty Howard has come to court at only thirteen, so I'm sure she will welcome a younger companion. And Uncle Thomas would be able to offer little Harry a position as cupbearer in his household, so he too could remain at court. I have prepared for a large family suite for you, near George's. It contains three bedchambers and a parlour, and I will give you money to furnish it how you like".

Mary's arms wrapped around Anne again, before taking the infant from Cathy's arms.

"Sister, meet Annie".

Anne's dark eyes met the child's, seeing the same eyes that she herself had, reflected at her. The toddler was sunny, and her blonde hair was tied tightly beneath the cotton coif on her head. The simple smock she wore was slightly too large for her frame, but she was well cared for.

"You named her after me?" questioned Anne, an ache growing in the pit of her stomach. After all she had done, her sister still sought to honour her.

"Of course, you are the best sister, after all".

Anne laughed loudly, a genuine sound releasing from her chest, "I am your only sister, Mary".

 **XX**

 **17** **th** **May 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

It had been two days since her father had been invested as Duke of Wiltshire, propelling both himself and her mother through the ranks. Her brother and his wife, as customary, had received her father's lower title, Earl. Jane Boleyn adored her new rank as a Countess and much to George's chagrin, had ordered a whole flock of new gowns. Although Anne could tell his irritation wasn't real. She was adamant there was something going on. Jane and George were usually peas in pods, but Jane was often exasperated by George's antics, particularly his favourite habit of reading aloud passages of the Tyndale bible to Chapuys. But lately he had seemed to calm down, no longer seeing to annoy the Seymours or the slimy Chapuys. He wasn't even bothered enough to attend the Tyndale meetings.

Anne sighed, looking deeply into her mirror as rubbed the red ochre rouge on her thin lips, her mind replaying the changes between her brother and his wife. Suddenly, her head snapped up. Jane's hand on her stomacher during their family meeting. _Jane was pregnant_ … _her dear sister in law, Jane, was pregnant._

Anne scrawled a note to her brother and his wife inviting them to dine with her this evening. She was hoping for Jane to reveal that she was indeed pregnant. George and Jane had all but given up on the idea of having a family, they had married in 1525, more than ten years ago now and Jane had failed to have a single pregnancy. George was kind, she remembered Jane sobbing to her about how kind he was when she didn't conceive, how he had stated he only needed her.

Anne only wished Henry could be like that…satisfied with her. Especially now he had his sons. But he hadn't came to her, rarely tried with her, preferring to spend his limited time with that Seymour Wench. A single tear rolled down her pale face and she wiped it away angrily. _Now is not the time to cry. You are a Boleyn and a Boleyn always wins._

 **XX**

 **19** **th** **May 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Edward's eyes gazed over the dancefloor, seeking out courtiers and watching them carefully. He was a intelligent man, cold and hard, but he was able to twist things to favour himself. He found things out, often before anyone else. Even before, Cromwell. Edward's cold gaze swept over his younger brother, irritated by his ridiculous flirting with some unworthy lady. A scowl rose on Edward's brow, his family were an embarrassment. Boleyn was correct, Henry wasn't going to remain Jane's lover for long, no matter what he promised.

Thinking of the queen, he peered at the throne where Boleyn was sat regally, a glare apparent on her pinched face. She drank deeply from her goblet, swaying slightly from the intoxication. Her eyes were fixated upon his sister and her husband, who were dancing closely together under her nose.

Edward thought it odd that Henry would flaunt his sister under his wife's nose, especially when she had delivered him an heir and a spare. Although, Edward thought, there was no need to hide his affairs now she was no longer pregnant. The Boleyn family were still the stars of court and Edward was sure that Anne Boleyn could ask for anything (except the removal of his mistresses) and the King would grant her very wish, but there was no love there anymore. From him anyway.

George Boleyn was chatting animatedly to Thomas Wyatt and Anthony Knivert, his hand holding his wife, Jane's. Edward could see the way her hand flittered so fleetingly to her bodice and he smirked, _Another Boleyn then._

Standing by the musicians were Kitty Howard, Charlie Howard, Cathy Carey and Hal Brandon. They were all dancing merrily together, large grins on their lively faces.

The elder Boleyn-Howard's were chatting, _plotting_ Edward thought _,_ in the corner. Elizabeth Boleyn was harmless, not worth a single second of Edward's time. Thomas Howard was arrogant and that made him sloppy. _No,_ Edward smiled wolfishly _, the most dangerous in that group was Thomas Boleyn and that shrew, Agnes Tilney; she never missed a trick._

Newly invited to court and looking incredibly anxious was the famous Mary Boleyn, who stood stiffly by the side of the ball with her recently knighted husband, the low born bastard. Edward had once considered Mary a good catch, she was certainly the prettier sister, a step on the ladder to power, but she had messed it all up by marrying a fucking common-born solider.

His eyes flickered again to Anne Boleyn on the throne, she had promised him the position of right hand to her son when he took the throne, but she would be regent. The king was getting older now and was becoming unfit with his ulcerated legs. A widowed queen would be the perfect catch.

Suddenly a loud bang sounded, and a rider draped in a black hooded cape ran in, his eyes wide with terror.

"The Sweat. The sweating sickness is back".

 **XX**

 _Notes: I know I promised that Anne would begin her work with the abbeys but as I was writing, I felt that she wasn't in a positive enough place to start working on her ideas for the reformation…_

 _Next time: The sickness sweeps through London and bringing illness to a few of our characters, Elizabeth Tudor has a dangerous accident and Henry's eyes are turned by a new lady to court._

 _Disclaimer – I do not own British History or Showtime's The Tudors._

 _QueenAnneTudor_ _– Sadly Mary is still young and naïve, and she's desperate to believe her father loves her but she will see the truth soon._

 _Kara_ _– I think Edward would easily betray his family for power. He did order the execution of his brother in 1549. It's also worth noting that apparently his father slept with his first wife, so I doubt he has a lot of loyalty to them. I wouldn't worry too much though, Mary is learning who her father is._

 _I Love Kol Mikaelson_ _– Anne needs to keep her eye out for Edward Seymour. He has his own plans. Sorry there wasn't much of the lovely Kitty in this chapter, but I've got some big scenes for her coming up. Sadly, Henry is as narcissistic as usual._


	9. Stay

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

' _Well, it's good to hear your voice_

 _I hope you're doing fine_

 _And if you ever wonder,_

 _I'm lonely here at night_

 _I'm lost here in this moment and time keeps slipping by_

 _And if I could have just one wish_

 _I'd have you by my side'_

 _Stay by Miley Cyrus_

 **26** **th** **May 1536. Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Dark eyes watched the heavy rain batter the thin glass, it was almost as if the weather could feel the emotions of the people. It had been a week since the messenger had announced the Sweat had arrived. That awful disease that killed and killed and killed. He had heard the non-stop chiming of the church bells and had heard the calls of 'bring your bodies out'. George shivered, remembering back to the Summer of 1528 when both he and Anne had fallen sick. He could still recall the impending doom that he had felt, George was sure that he would die.

The King had ordered that everyone was to be confined to their chambers to try to stop the spread of the disease, an illness that the King feared above all else, due to it killing his brother. The only exception to that rule were the lowly servants who were to deliver food outside of the door, knock and leave.

George sighed, he hated to be confined, hated being stuck in his chambers and he hated not having news of what was going on. He prayed regularly for the health of his parents and his sisters and well as the continued safety of his nieces and nephews. His rough hands caressed the front of his worn Tyndale bible as he placed it down on the table.

His dark eyes flittered from the foreboding darkness outside to his wife who was dozing lightly on the bed. A small smile quirked at the side of his thin lips as he admired his partner.

Jane Parker certainly wasn't the most beautiful woman at court, but she was well-suited to him. Although their marriage had been an arranged one, it had become a love match. Jane was lively and clever, she soothed his moods but enlightened his ideas. Her eloquent words were often disapproving but her bright eyes teased and encouraged. He could admit, hand on heart, that he loved Jane. And he loved their babe that was growing inside of her.

George had thought that he was never destined to be a father. Jane and he had married in the Summer of 1525 and she hadn't fallen pregnant. It had not bothered George, he was a doting uncle, but he loved Jane and couldn't bear for her to hate herself for not providing him an heir. Yet, here they were, finally blessed by God with a babe. George knew he would care for the child, regardless of its sex.

He drained his goblet quickly before heading towards the soft bed. He slipped off his boots, before silently crawling into the large bed, his arms snaking around Jane as he rested his palm upon her stomach that was starting to swell ever so slightly. He pressed a kiss to Jane's plaited hair and whispered, "I love you".

He sat up suddenly, noticing the fine sheen of sweat upon his wife's face and his heart sank. He stood quickly, not caring to don his boots or his cloak and left the chambers, running down the hallway shouting for a doctor.

He returned to his chambers in record time, heavily out of breath, with Doctor Butts trailing behind him.

"She's there" he whispered, gesturing at his wife who was still lying unconscious on the bed. The doctor quickly rushed to her side, his hand brushing against her forehead.

"She's burning up".

George nodded, he had obviously realised that.

"Is it the sweat?" he inquired, nervously.

"Yes. It is. It appears she has got it badly. I presume the lowered immune system due to her pregnancy is not helping", the Doctor sighed.

"Will she die?" questioned George, tears gathering in his eyes as he looked upon his wife. She looked so vulnerable, so unlike herself. He bit his lip hard, desperate not to cry at the thought of losing his soul mate and his baby.

The doctor shrugged.

"If she survives the night, she will live".

 **XX**

 **27** **th** **May 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Anne was used to feeling scared, being hated often led to fears of what people may do, but she had never felt the coil of fear so readily in her stomach. Every morning, she rushed to the door to bring the food for the day in, hoping to see a letter from Hatfield and every morning there wasn't one. Her chest ached so clearly at the idea that her children may possibly be ill. _What if they are calling for me?_ Times like this made Anne wish she had never become Queen, so she could do the things a mother normally would. The tears dripped down her pale face as her slim fingers worried the fine velvet of her outer gown. She wiped them away angrily, knowing she should not dwell on her deepest fears.

She heard the yawning of her companion, indicating that she was about to rise for the day. After everyone had been confined to their rooms, Anne had spent most days flittering around, picking at perceived faults. She had only one companion to help her, dear little Kitty. Kitty tried her hardest to distract Anne, dancing and singing happily but even she couldn't stop the worries that each new day brought.

"Your Majesty" murmured Kitty, entering the outer chambers, rubbing her eyes. She was still in her cotton nightdress and her hair fell around her shoulders in wild curls. Anne attempted to smile at her dear cousin, but it came out as a grimace.

"Kitty, please, call me Anne when we are in private. Now come here and we'll do something about that hair, shall we?".

Kitty nodded eagerly, sitting down in front of her cousin, tossing her blonde ringlets over her shoulder. Anne brushed her hair gently, as she would with her dear Elizabeth, and gathered Kitty's locks into a neat plait.

Kitty turned back to Anne, a wide smile -too large for her dainty features- on her face.

"Anne, thank you for helping me", she hugged her older cousin, "my mama died when I was younger and I don't have many memories of her so sometimes it feels like you are a mother to me. I would've loved to have a mama like you".

Anne smiled genuinely, pressing a soft kiss to Kitty's forehead, "Oh Kitty, I really am honoured".

 **XX**

 **2** **nd** **June 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

It had been two weeks since the Sweating Sickness had returned, and it had torn through England and then disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. Rumours were floating around about how much the death toll was this time. Some said one hundred people had died in the palace alone, although Cromwell had said the official figures were much higher. The younger Boleyn's wife had fallen sick, although she had recovered albeit slowly.

Edward was eager to re-join society, the time spent cooped up meant that he was unable to examine people and learn their secrets. His hands ran over the book in his hands, it had pained him to remove the beautifully designed cover, but he didn't want anyone to realise that he had a Tyndale bible, especially not his devoted Roman Catholic family. His cold eyes read the verse in front of him, before he was interrupted by his sister coming into the chamber and distracting him.

"Ed, I need to speak to you" she whispered, her green eyes nervously darting around, looking for other members of their family, relieved not to find anyone else in the finely furnished rooms.

"Jane, I am busy, go and bother someone else" he sneered at her, shooing her away with his hand, his unsympathetic eyes piercing hers.

"Edward, this is important" pleaded Jane, gingerly, grabbing his arm, her face pulled into an expression of worry.

He snapped his book shut, in irritation, before turning to his sister. He sighed as he waited for her to gather her words.

"Ed, I'm pregnant".

Edward's eyes grew wide, _bloody chit,_ he thought, _the king will tire of you now he cannot lay with you and we will have lost our positions. Unless…_ Edward frowned, _the Queen will reward him for this information._

 **XX**

 **4** **th** **June 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

"Your Majesty".

The loud outcry made the ladies in the chambers jump. Anne looked up from her sewing, her dark eyes falling upon Edward Seymour in surprise. She stood quickly, straightening out her dark gown. She shooed away her ladies, motioning to Nan to stay in the room to chaperone.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Lord Seymour" drawled Anne, drawing out a glass of fine French wine for Edward and herself to drink.

Edward watched the woman in front of him carefully, he knew she wouldn't react well. She was volatile at the best of times, but he knew once she had calmed, she would reward him for the information.

"I'm sorry to bring you this information, for I know the distress it will cause you" murmured Edward, casting his eyes to the floor. She raised a single brow at his words, her face pinched, staring at him from over the top of her wine.

"My sister is pregnant, with the King's child".

Anne felt her stomach sink at the words, she could feel the bile rise in her throat and the all-familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

"She is sure?".

"Yes, your Majesty".

The glass smashing against the fireplace shocked them all.

"Leave me now" snarled Anne, tears streaming down her face.

Edward nodded and fled the room, hearing screams and shouts and furniture crashing to the floor.

 **XX**

 **4** **th** **June 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,**

Henry was enjoying the quiet, court hadn't fully recovered from the sickness and therefore he could take some time to enjoy himself. The book in his hands – The Prince by Machiavelli- was proving to be very useful indeed.

He heard the door of his chambers open, his eyes meeting with his wife's.

"Anne, what are you doing in here?" he inquired, politely but coldly, putting his book to one side.

"Why Henry? Why did you have to flaunt her in front of me? Especially once I gave you not one but two Princes" she asked, Henry could see the fire in her dark eyes dancing, warning him not to test her.

"Wife, it is well within my rights to take a mistress. And you, as queen, must endure as your betters before have".

She snarled at him, "Don't you know I love you a thousand times more than any of them!"

Henry scowled at her, why did she have to be so difficult, why couldn't she understand.

"Madame, you will do well to remember your place. Do not think that because you gave me my heir that you have the right to speak to me like that. I could drag you down as easily as I raised you."

"Not very easily at all then" smirked Anne, her breath coming out unevenly.

"I would have thought that you would've have learnt to mind your tongue by now", Henry's abrasive tone hit her.

"You said the definition of love was honesty".

"Perhaps I am not in love with you anymo…" Henry was cut off by Anne's slap. He looked at her angrily, redness blooming across his cheek as he glared at her, before grabbing her throat in his hand.

His blue eyes met her dark ones, hooks for the soul he had called them once, as he tightened his grip round her slender neck. Her breath became ragged and his eyes traced her lips before he brought his own crashing down.

The kiss caught him off guard and he realised how different it was to the docile and sweet kisses he and Jane shared. This kiss made him feel as though he had set himself on fire, she was intoxicating, and he drank her in as if she was a fine whiskey. He could almost hear the unspoken words in the kiss, ' _please love me again'._

He pulled away, leaving them both gasping for air before he crashed his lips to hers again, pulling her to his desk, his nimble hands undoing the lacing on the back of her expensive gown. She undid the buttons of his breeches. He pulled up the skirts of her dark gown before stopping himself.

"Anne, we shouldn't…your health..." he whispered.

"Henry, I want you, please" she pleaded, wrapping her legs round him.

He stared at her, torn for a moment, before bringing his lips to her neck, feeling her fingertips press into his back under his shirt.

He pushed into her, gently, eliciting a soft whisper of ' _Henry_ ' from her mouth.

 **XX**

 **8** **th** **June 1536, Hatfield House, Hertfordshire,**

Charles Brandon smiled sadly at the young girl in front of him, her blue eyes glistening with tears.

"I know why you are here, Your Grace" she spat at him, angrily, turning her face from him to stare at the large gardens in front of her. How she missed the freedom of being able to walk around alone, without a servant following her to make sure she wasn't committing treason.

"I'm sorry, Lady Mary, but your father insists you sign" Charles sighed, tenderly taking the lady's hand into his.

A single tear fell down her cheek as she whispered, "do you not know what you ask of me? You ask me to betray my mother and name _her_ as the queen. How can I do that to my Madre? Not when she fought so valiantly".

Charles gritted his teeth, sorrow filling his chest as he looked upon the girl that had once been his niece. Henry was his best friend, but he could be a cruel bastard at times.

"Lady Mary, I fear for your safety, should you not sign."

She looked at him sharply then, and all Charles could see at that moment was Catherine of Aragon. A picture of strength. Catherine had won herself many supporters with her poise and humility.

"Your Grace, God has a plan for me. Although, I fear I am to be the most unhappy lady in Christendom".

He tenderly wiped the tear from her cheek, "Mary, you will not be unhappy if you sign. His majesty will welcome you back into his arms. But if you continue to hold out, he will punish you".

She laughed then, it was hard and bitter.

"Does he not think this is already punishment?".

"Of course, this is punishment. But Mary, I fear he will not hesitate to make this worse…"

Mary pulled a face, before sighing tiredly, "You know, your Grace, sometimes, I do not even wish for this throne. Sometimes all I pray for is to have a husband and a family of my own. I'm twenty and unmarried…I'm practically a spinster. The whore…sorry, Mistress Boleyn said that if I were to sign, she would help me. She would find me a husband".

Charles looked at her sharply, surprised that Anne had once again, extended her offer. It was uncharacteristic of her to be generous to those she deemed as enemies or worse, rivals for the King's affection. He went to speak again before he was interrupted by a frantic lady.

"Do any of you know where the Princess is?" she cried, hysterically.

"Is she not with Mistress Ashley?" questioned Charles, irritated by the disturbance.

"Mistress Ashley is sick and in bed, I am supposed to be watching the Princess. We were in the gardens and I stopped to talk to...and she ran away" sobbed the lady.

Mary shot up quickly, fear coiling in her stomach. She never wanted harm to befall her beloved half-sister. She rushed through the pretty gardens of Hatfield, Charles at her heel. Out of one corner of her eye, she saw Baroness Bryan sitting under a tree with her half-brother, George cooing loudly at her. Lady Perry was rocking Louis in her arms, but she couldn't see Elizabeth anywhere.

Mary was sure her heart was about to burst out of her chest as she called out frantically, "Lizbeth, Lizabeth".

"There" shouted Charles, pointing at a single silver slipper in the bank, next to the pond.

Mary screamed hysterically, drawing Baroness Bryan's attention, who quickly scooped up George and rushed over.

Charles was in the water already, grabbing at anything under the water he could.

"I can't find her" he shouted to the ladies gathered by the pond before he dove under.

Mary's sobs grew louder, and she fell to her knees, praying to God in Latin.

"Help me" shouted Charles, his voice tearing through Mary's prayers. She saw her little sister, limp in his arms as he struggled to get out of the deep pond.

Mary rushed forwards, pulling Elizabeth from him and placing her on the ground. Instinctively, she pressed her mouth to her sister's and blew air. Nothing happened. She tried again before frantically pushing hard on Elizabeth's chest. She could hear Charles ordering someone to fetch the physician.

"Please Lizabeth, please wake up. I promise that if you wake up, we'll be a proper family" she sobbed, pressing hard on Elizabeth's chest.

Elizabeth stirred and spluttered, bringing up copious amounts of dirty water. Mary smiled tearfully, pulling her sister into her arms and rocking her.

"Mary…Mary, I called for you and you came and rescued me" coughed Elizabeth, her voice hoarse as she gently placed a hand on her older sister's cheek.

"Oh Elizabeth, I will always be there for you. I love you".

 **XX**

 _Notes: I couldn't fit Henry's new mistress into this chapter (time limited) so that will be in the next chapter. Any guesses to who it might be?_

 _Next Time: The introduction of a new Seymour, the court visits France, and Mary Tudor & Anne Boleyn meet face to face._

 _Disclaimer – I do not own History nor Showtime's The Tudors._

 _I appreciate every favourite, follow and review I get, so thank you ALL!_

 _Child Of Dreams_ _– This chapter will hold the answers you seek. Thank you for reviewing._

 _QueenAnneTudor_ _– Very possibly. Without giving anything away, Edward Seymour is a character to watch. He is also a very key figure. Thank you for reviewing._

 _I Love Kol Mikaelson_ _– Lets see what you think of Henry in this character. Anne should be careful of Edward Seymour, he is the brains of that family. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Guest_ _– Culpepper will be in this story but… he is not a nice character. You have been warned. Thank you for reviewing._

 _Guest_ _– Jane Parker will be called Jane Boleyn in this story to save confusion, although being historically accurate, she should be Jane Ormond. Jane Boleyn has George in this story and he is historically accurate (and therefore a nice guy *LOOKING AT YOU SHOWTIME*). Childbirth is always dangerous, and I love Jane Boleyn, but we'll see where this story takes me. Anne is far too dedicated to fall out of love with Henry, I think someone will have to sweep her off her feet first._

 _Guest_ _– I'm not sure whether to include Ursula. As she is a fictional character, I don't have much information to go on. I will promise you though that Anne Boleyn gets her happy ending (although it may or may not include Henry)._

 _I have studied three journals and a book, so I may portray the Sweating Sickness correctly. Please let me know if you wanted my research to look at yourself. It's a very interesting subject. The Sweating Sickness was an extremely dangerous disease with a mortality rate of 50%. It had a very sudden on-set and was transmitted by human contact, as well as bodily fluids (sneezing, coughing, etc). The epidemic appeared only five times before disappearing from England in 1551. The dates of the major outbreaks were 1485, 1508, 1517, 1528 and 1551. The Sweat is believed to have been a type of Hantavirus._

 _The outbreak of 1536 (in my story) is completely fictional._


	10. 9 Crimes

**La Reine Des Coeurs**

 **This chapter contains sexual scenes.**

' _Leave me out with the waste_ _  
_ _This is not what I do_ _  
_ _It's the wrong kind of place_ _  
_ _To be cheating on you_ _  
_ _It's the wrong time_ _  
_ _But she's pulling me through_ _  
_ _It's a small crime_ _  
_ _And I've got no excuse'_

 _9 Crimes by Damien Rice_

 **15** **th** **June 1536, The Palace Of Fontainebleau, France**

France was like everything she had ever remembered, being back in the place she had once called home brought an ache to her chest. The fresh air, the lilting French accents and the beautiful renaissance château brought so many memories of her past. Her dark eyes flickered to her husband's, remembering the last time they were here they had consummated their relationship. The first time they had laid together had been so special. Henry had been so loving, so gentle yet passionate as though he was a mere mortal worshipping at the alter of a goddess.

It was different this time. No longer did they have to worry about whether or not she would be acknowledged as Queen. She was returning to France in triumph, her daughter was to be married to the Duke of Orleans, Charles de Valois. But still the coil twisted in her stomach, giving her a dreadful sense of foreboding. She squeezed her husband's hand softly, as she sat at the grand dining table. King Francis I sat by her husband, a smirk playing on the side of his mouth as he regarded the French and English courts mingling. His dark hair was tied back by a leather tie and his golden crown sat proudly on his head. By his side, was his scowling wife, Queen consort, Eleanor Of Austria. Anne knew Eleanor hated her, she was cousin to Henry's previous wife. Her dark eyes stared out at the crowds, making note of where her sister, Mary was. She also kept her eyes open for her cousin, Kitty and her niece, Catherine. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw someone she thought was Louise of Savoy, her eyes twinkling with delight, but her hope deflated when she remembered her dear role-model had died years ago.

The sound of the heralds drew her from her thoughts as they introduced the twelve-year-old Duke of Orleans who approached the large top table, bowing in respect to his father and step-mother, and then the king and queen of England. Anne regarded the tall boy in front of her, taking in the boy who would become her darling daughter's husband.

Charles de Valois was a tall child, with wavy dark hair and piercing green eyes. He was tanned and lithe and his smile led to dimples appearing in his cheeks. But more importantly to Anne, he had kind eyes and was respectful and polite. He stood erectly by the table, awaiting the heralds to announce his betrothed.

When the trumpets sounded to announce the entrance of Anne's daughter, she sat up, eager to watch her daughter. The toddler walked carefully to the front, curtsying delicately, her dark eyes watching the faces of the King and Queen of France. She greeted them in perfect French, her voice strong and clear before she turned to her betrothed.

"C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, votre grâce. Je ne peux pas attendre notre mariage. Ma mère a déjà commencé à me préparer à être la meilleure duchesse que je puisse être".

Francis clapped, delighted with the Princess' speech and her mannerisms. Elizabeth was a tall child, slender and charming. Her red hair was pinned back by the tiara she wore on her head and she wore a beautiful gown of spun gold.

"Je suis sûr que tu seras la femme et la duchesse la plus merveilleuse, ma princesse" smiled Charles, bowing lowly and kissing the hand of the toddler who would become his wife. Anne was relieved, if he was horrified to be marrying a toddler whose legitimacy was questioned by the Pope, he did not show it.

Cromwell approached the monarchs, bowing lowly with a bundle of notes. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"The most gracious majesties, King Henry and his Queen Anne, have decided to bestow the following titles and estates on Prince Charles. He will be allowed to use the names in trust until his marriage to the Princess Elizabeth. Princes Charles will hold the title of Marquess of Pembroke, as a joint title with his wife, as well as becoming an honorary member of the Knights of the Garter and hold the estate of Pembroke with his wife. He will also hold the estates of Caernarfon Castle and Harlech Castle in his own right".

King Francis looked very happy with the news, his grin never leaving his face.

 **XX**

 **15** **th** **June 1536, The Palace of Fontainebleau, France,**

Her delicate fingers trailed across his toned chest as she stared at him.

"I loved you, more than anything" she whispered to the man next to her, ignoring the way he scowled at her words. She shifted into him, her breasts pressing against his bare skin.

"And you do not now?" he murmured, blue eyes staring into her stormy ones.

She shrugged at him inelegantly, stretching her long legs across him, pulling herself up to straddle him. Her soft lips kissed scorching tracks across his neck and collarbone.

"Can you really ever fall out of love with someone?" she questioned, her tone light and lilting but he could hear the paranoia and insecurity behind it.

His hands stripped her bony hips, his touch was both bruising yet gentle. His lips ghosted over her prominent collarbone, going towards her ear.

"Yes, I do believe people can".

Stormy eyes glanced down at him with anger, as she moved to seat herself upon his erect manhood. She pushed herself down, gleeful at the rush of breath that left his mouth. She moved over him, angrily, eliciting low moans from his mouth, her dark hair twisted around her white shoulders as she rocked against him. Her sharp teeth bit hard into his neck.

"Do you love me, Henry?".

He cried out then, before rolling over, making sure he was in control. He thrusted into her with force, allowing her to draw her nails down his back over and over, leaving trails of blood drying on his muscled back. His hand gripped her throat as he pounded her harder and harder, his thrust growing more and more erratic until he spasmed, filling her with his hot seed. He stayed above her, letting his cock grew soft, his forehead pressed against hers, breathing heavily.

"I'm not sure anymore" he stammered, rolling off of her to face the leaded window. She held her breath until she could hear his breathing become slow and steady before the tears came.

 **XX**

 **17** **th** **June 1536, The Palace Of Fontainebleau, France,**

Henry's blue eyes caressed the slender blonde in front of him, admiring her slim body, her full lips and her milky skin. He smiled at his mistress, patting the bed beside him, pleased that his wife was off spending time with King Francis, Prince Charles and Princess Elizabeth. He cupped Jane's face, pressing a firm kiss to her pouting lips.

"God, Jane, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever encountered" he mumbled against her lips, stroking her cheek.

"Your Majesty, you are too kind. I am most undeserving" she whispered to him, pressing his hand against her chest to feel her heartbeat. He gazed at her, his eyes filled with desire. But as his hand went to unlace the back of her simple yellow serving gown, she stopped him.

"Your Majesty…"

"Henry, please, my love".

"Henry, I… I am with child. The midwife said I will be due around November, just before Yuletide", tears rolled down Jane's cheeks.

She was terrified Henry would refuse to acknowledge the babe or even worse, that he would not longer want her. She knew he often married his mistresses off but the only mistress of his that had fallen pregnant was Lady Bessie Blount. He had acknowledged Lord Fitzroy as his son and continued to show favour to the boy. However, that had been when he only had Princess…Lady Mary as his heir. He now had the concubine's two bastards and they would prove to be rivals to her dear child. Jane could only hope he showed their child favour as they had a child borne from love, unlike the concubine's children who were borne from black magic.

"My dear Jane, that is the most welcome news. This babe is borne from our love. I will make sure you are given an annum of £100 and you will retain your position as my maitresse en titre. I cannot wait for the birth of our babe" he grinned at her, surprising her as he kissed her still-flat stomach.

"But what of your wife?" she questioned, nervously, knowing that the whore would be most displeased with Jane, and would seek to humiliate Jane at every turn.

"I will remove you from her service. You will remain at court with your sister, Dorothy, as your attendant. The Queen will just have to learn to endure as her betters before her have".

Jane smiled widely then, her hands stroking Henry's red hair. She was to be granted money as a pension in her own right and she was to have Dorothy as an attendant. It was far more than she had hoped for. And perhaps if she delivered a son, she would be granted even more power.

 **XX**

 **7** **th** **July 1536, The Palace of Fontainebleau, France,**

Kitty was disappointed that the visit to France was coming to an end. She had never been out of London before, but she adored the Parisian courtiers and the beautiful scenery of the château. She loved the beautiful gowns (ones that her cousin, the Queen favoured so much) and the delicious cakes. The food was so fine and rich in France, Hal was so very skilled at sneaking profiteroles from the kitchens for them to share with her brother, Charlie and cousin, Catherine. The only thing she didn't like were the weird bony chicken strips that her brother had later told her were frog legs. Kitty couldn't understand why anyone would want to eat something so disgusting.

Tonight was the last night they were spending here, and King Francis had organised an opulent feast with dancing. Kitty was so happy that her cousin had been acknowledged as Queen by the French and that her dear little cousin, Princess Elizabeth had been formally betrothed to the handsome French prince. Kitty watched the couples whizz past, amazed at their grace and fluidity. The Queen was dancing with her brother again, the two laughing together. Lady Mary Stafford was chatting to Nan Saville, keeping her eye trained on her daughter.

Kitty had enjoyed the freedom being at the French court allowed. Charlie, Hal, Cathy and Kitty had sneaked out to watch the sunrise and had hidden behind alcoves to watch the flirtatious French couples kiss when they thought no one was watching. The friendship between the four had blossomed and Kitty considered them to be her best friends, they were certainly far kinder to her than the girls at Lambert had been. She watched, with eager eyes, as her brother, Charlie, twirled Cathy around the ballroom floor. They were certainly a beautiful sight to behold, not because they were good at dancing but the sheer happiness on their faces drew courtiers to stare.

"It's a bit boring to watch them dance, isn't it Kitty?" laughed Hal, throwing his arm around Kitty's thin frame and pulling her close.

"Not at all. I think they look lovely" whispered Kitty.

"Alright, I suppose they do look good. I guess they remind me of the Queen and the Viscount".

"Yes, Cousin Anne…I mean the Queen always smiles when she's around her brother. They are very close".

"The Queen is beautiful when she smiles" … Hal stopped himself, looking around anxiously to see if his parents had heard him compliment the women they hated so much. He couldn't understand why they disliked her Majesty when she had only ever been kind to him. She often allowed Kitty to spend time with him, albeit with Cathy as a chaperone, and gave them cakes and pastries to enjoy with their picnics.

Kitty's smile disappeared in an instant as she looked down at herself. She looked nothing like her cousin. Anne was all raven hair, dark eyes and confidence wrapped in a shiny bow of desirability. Kitty, on the other hand, was blonde, with sea blue eyes and a skinny frame. Although she appeared energetic and vivacious, Kitty was quite shy.

"She is very beautiful" she murmured.

Hal laughed, noting Kitty's fallen face and replied "You know she isn't as beautiful as you though".

Kitty looked at him in shock, her eyes wide, allowing him to pull her out of the ballroom and down the hall to the library. It was where they had gone to watch the fireworks previously when they were not allowed to attend the party (their parents, or in Kitty's case, her grandmother, had deemed it to be too late). They sat in the library, staring at one another, all bright eyed and flushed cheeks, hands entwined.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" mumbled Kitty, tugging her hand away from Hal and pushing a stray blonde curl behind her ear.

Hal nodded, his cheeks flushed, and then he quickly leant forwards, his breath fanning across her face and kissed Kitty. The kiss was chaste and uncertain, but Hal grew more confident. His teeth clashed against hers with inexperience as he curled his hand in Kitty's blonde hair, but Kitty pulled away, as if scorched. A single tear rolled down her face as she fled from him.

She reached hers and Cathy's apartment in record time, and she stopped in front of the mirror, inspecting the way her tears tracked trails through her blusher and the smudged lipstick around her mouth. She held back a sob, hurrying over to the wash basin and scrubbing her face. _He is not Mannox or Dereham…He is not Mannox or Dereham…_ She tried to reassure herself, but the tears continued. Flashes of dirty hands touching soft skin made her shiver. Kitty threw herself on the small single bed and sobbed herself to sleep.

 **XX**

 **13** **th** **July 1536, Hampton Court Palace, Surrey,**

The chambers of Queen Anne were a-buzz with noise. They would be welcoming a new lady yet the Queen (and Lady Nan Seville) had kept quiet about who it was. The Queen was reclining in her chaise, one hand lazily throwing a small ball for Urian and Purkoy to chase, the other picking grapes to eat. Nan Seville was bustling round, ordering the ladies to tidy the outer chamber for their new companion. Cathy was sat, singing happily while attempting to play the lute that her aunt, the Queen, had given to her. Kitty sighed heavily, turning away from Cathy, her thin fingers splaying against the cool glass of the window. She had managed to avoid Hal since their return to England, but he was now seeking out her brother to ask after her. Kitty missed him, she really did but she couldn't be around him. She had even sought him out, standing outside his chambers but the thought of his lips on hers, reminding her of Mannox's whiskey breath or Dereham's sharp teeth made her feel sick to her very core. Cathy hadn't noticed that she had withdrawn, but then again, Cathy had never been overly observant. The Queen, however, had been giving Kitty odd looks and trying to get her alone to talk but Kitty was glad every time the Queen had cornered her, they were interrupted. She couldn't tell Anne, not if she wanted to stay at court. Everyone would think her a whore and she'd be damaged goods. Her grandmother would be so angry but not as angry as Uncle Norfolk. A loud knock roused Kitty from her thoughts.

Bess Holland pranced up from her seat and ran to the door; Bess had been very annoyed at not being informed who the lady. As the door opened, everyone's jaws dropped.

"Lovely to have you join us, Lady Ughtred" smiled Anne, gesturing for Lady Ughtred to join her. If Lady Ughtred felt nervous about being in a room full of Boleyn sympathisers, she did not show it. Instead, she curtsied deeply, her head down casted.

"Thank you for allowing me to be one of your ladies" smiled the blonde, her blue eyes flashing up at her new mistress.

"I must admit I was surprised to receive your letter asking for a place. One does wonder why you would join my household. I can't imagine your family will be very pleased".

"If you are implying I'm here for them, then you are mistaken. I will prove to you I am loyal to you. My dearly parted husband, Sir Anthony, supported your family's rise at court and you rewarded him richly. My husband would have wished for me to remain loyal to his cause and as his loving wife, I will. Besides, what would following my sister do, other than teach me to be a whore?" Lizzie laughed, her smile identical to Edward's.

 **XX**

 **19** **th** **July 1536, Hatfield House, Hertfordshire,**

"Baroness Bryan, thank you for accommodating me on such short notice, I have had the most marvellous day with dear Elizabeth. It seems all your accounts on her intelligence are accurate, indeed. As the Princess is now settling for bed and my darling princes are being fed, please may you ask the Lady Mary if I may meet her?".

The governess must have looked shocked, her lined eyes wide before she nodded abruptly, hurrying up the steep stone steps. Anne took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She adjusted her tiara and smoothed her silver gown. Anxiety coiled in her stomach as she heard the loud footsteps thundering down the steps.

"Ma'am".

Anne's dark eyes met ice blue ones. The girl from her nightmares was in front of her but she looked different now. Lady Mary was far thinner than she had been, her cheekbones jutting, her skin lily-white, and her icy eyes were surrounded by bruise like bags of sleep deprivation. Her brown hair was pulled in a tight bun, making her skinny face look more severe. The black gown she wore was obviously old and far too small for the girl. The only drop on colour on the adolescence was a gold-plated crucifix she wore from her neck. One that Anne recognised as her mother's.

"Mary", Anne decided to greet her without a title that she could take offence to. The girl continued to stare at her, with cold eyes. _So alike her father's._

"Mary, I am here to ask you to take the oath…"

"No", the single word cut across Anne's ready made speech. Anne looked at the girl in shock.

"You were mistaken to come here. I will not sign away my rights or discredit my mother. Certainly not for you".

Anne stared, speechless. The girl was as stubborn as her mother. But foolish. England would not support her anymore, certainly not now that it had heirs in her sons. Her cousin would not enter a war that he had no chance of winning now that Anne had tied France to England's side with her daughter's hand in marriage.

"Mary, I know I haven't been the best stepmother to you. I have done many things I regret because I was insecure in the King's love… but Mary, I feel that you do not understand the stakes".

Mary chuckled, a hard sound, "You ruined my life. Why would I make your life easier?".

"You foolish foolish child. I would beg Elizabeth, George and Louis to sign the oath if the positions were changed. Your mother would not want you to hurt yourself for the sake of being stubborn. I beg you… Please sign the oath. I know not what your father would do to you. I fear…I fear that he would be inclined to send you to the tower, especially now he has the boys."

"He wouldn't do that…"

"Lady Mary, you haven't seen your father in almost seven years, you do not know what he would or wouldn't do. Think on it. You wouldn't be signing for me. You'd be signing for your siblings and for your safety. For your sake though, don't leave it too long".

With those parting words, Anne swept out of the door, leaving a confused Mary in her wake.

 **XX**

 **19** **th** **July 1536, Hampton Court Palace, Surrey,**

Henry admired the lithe body in front of him, she was different to his wife in every way, yet so different from Jane too. Her flowing red hair tickled his face as she rode him, moaning loudly. Henry's hands roamed across her pert breasts, pinching at her erect nipples. Her lips kissed trails down his jaw and neck, sucking gently at his skin. He grunted at her, encouraging her to go faster, his hands gripping her hips bracingly as he felt himself heading towards orgasm.

"Get off me" he grunted, pushing her off. He was adamant he didn't want to get another woman pregnant. Anne was going to crazy enough over Jane, even though it was common for Maitresse et titre's to have their male companion's offspring. However, his father's voice filled his head, berating him for having bastards that would threaten his legitimate line.

She was surprising agile, spinning herself quickly and enveloping Henry in her skilful mouth. French tricks he thought, his mind going back to Mary Boleyn. She was eager to please, her mouth dexterous and as he emptied his seed into her warm lips, she swallowed, then curled up delicately next to him. Henry felt himself lulled into a deep sleep with the beauty next to him cuddling him.

 **XX**

 _Notes: Disclaimer – I own nothing but my ideas. Any similarity to anything is a mere coincidence. I do not own Showtime's The Tudors, Michael Hirst's ideas or British History._

 _Louise Of Savoy was the mother of Francis I of France. She was known to Anne Boleyn and contemporary records said Louise was a formidable woman who was devoted to her children and helped form Marguerite of Navarre's views on religion. She died in 1531._

 _I used google translate for my French. Unfortunately, I speak only basic French, so I needed it to be checked. Elizabeth says "It's a pleasure to meet you, your grace. I cannot wait for our wedding. My mama has already begun to prepare me to be the best duchess I can be."_

 _Charles of Valois responds with "I'm sure you will be the most wonderful wife and Duchess, my Princess"._

 _The title of the Marquess of Pembroke was created in 1532 by King Henry VIII for his future wife, Anne Boleyn. The title became extinct in 1536. As_ _ **Frog1**_ _pointed out the Duke of Edinburgh belonged to the Kingdom of Scotland, which was separate to the Kingdom of England (and Ireland). I have decided in this story that Anne's title would pass to Princess Elizabeth, so she retains a high position when (and IF) her brother takes the throne. Thank you_ _ **FROG1**_ _for pointing out my mistake so I was able to rectify it._

 _Carnarvon Castle (anglicised) is a medieval castle located in Caernarfon, Gwynedd, north-west Wales. It was built in 1283 in stone by Edward I of England. It is also noted as the place Edmund Tudor, father of Henry VII, died at, during an outbreak of the Plague. I chose this property as it seems to have been in disuse during the 1500s so it's perfect for Prince Charles._

 _Harlech Castle was built between 1282 - 1289 by Edward I of England. It is located in Harlech, Gwynedd, Wales. During the 15th century Wars of the Roses, Harlech was held by the Lancastrians for seven years, before Yorkist troops forced its surrender in 1468, a siege memorialised in the song Men of Harlech.. I chose this property as it seems to have been in disuse during the 1500s so it's perfect for Prince Charles._

 _ **Any guesses to who the new mistress is?**_


	11. Issues

**La Reine De Coeurs**

' _Yeah, I got issues_

 _And one of them is how bad I need you'_

 _Issues by Julia Michaels_

 **1** **st** **August 1536, Windsor Castle, Berkshire,**

Bleary eyes glared at the bright sunlight that was streaming through a gap in the rich velvet drapes, she stretched out, wincing at the loud crack her aching joints made. Dark eyes flittered to the clock upon the mantle of the fireplace, reading the time to be around four am. She yawned before sitting up slowly, sighing once more as she pulled on her red velvet outer gown to cover the simple cotton nightdress. As she stood, she felt a wave of sickness come over her and she yelped, running to her washing basin on the vanity table. She felt herself heave again, the bile rising as she vomited into the porcelain bowl.

"Your Majesty, are you okay?" questioned a concerned voice quietly, not wanting to wake the other ladies.

Anne tiredly turned to face her companion, tensing when she saw it was Lady Ughtred.

"I'm fine, Liz. Please go back to bed. I'm sorry for disturbing you" Anne sighed, placing a towel over the basin.

"Don't worry, your Majesty, I will deal with that and I will bring you some ginger tea to settle your stomach".

Anne nodded, gingerly climbing back into her large bed and peering suspiciously at Liz Ughtred.

"I won't mention anything to anyone; not the other ladies, not the King nor my family. Please trust me", Liz whispered earnestly, knowing what was on the Queen's mind. All she wanted was to show her loyalty to the Queen.

At the Queen's nod of ascent, Liz left her chambers (after sorting the sick) and made her way to the kitchens, hoping to avoid all other members of the gentry. Although she did not voice her suspicions to the Queen, she knew that Anne had missed her latest cycle and now with the sickness… well, Liz had two children of her own, she knew what a pregnancy looked like, but she also knew the Queen had only just become able to be intimate again…

"Traitor" hissed a voice to her left.

Liz jumped, spinning round to see her older brother, Thomas. His face was curled into a snarl as he looked upon his younger sister, his rough hands grasping Liz's shoulders tightly. She imagined that she would have bruises littering that spot tomorrow.

"You are a fucking traitor, what are you doing with the whore?"

"I presume you are referring to the Queen, Thomas. Heavens forbid anyone hears you use that language about her. Especially now she has secured her position with the birth of her Princes".

"A Queen, a whore…what difference does it make? All women are sluts…Anyway, Jane has asked to me to tell you that you will be spying on the bitch for our family", his cruel smile hit her like a ton of bricks. This wasn't the older brother she had doted on, who had taken her on her first horse ride and promised he'd always protect her.

"I will not betray the Queen" Liz's voice sounded a lot stronger than she had thought it would.

"Sorry Liz, but if you wish to see Anthony and Margie then you will. You see, Father sent our bastard brother to collect them. They are residing with Mother at Wulfhall. If you want to see them again, you will do our bidding".

Liz blinked back tears, her nostrils flaring at the unfairness of the situation. She nodded her answer at her brother before slowly continuing her journey. She couldn't believe how awful her family were being to her. Perhaps the Queen could help her, she faltered then, she couldn't put her problems on the Queen especially if she was pregnant. After all, it was unlikely enough as it is that the Queen would carry to term after the traumatic labour of the twins.

 **XX**

 **3** **rd** **August 1536, Windsor Castle, Berkshire,**

The gardens were in full bloom at this time of year and Kitty grinned seeing all the beautiful buddleia and the colourful heleniums. The sun was bright, bathing the large courtyard in warmth. Even her grandmother's sniping and having to carry the heavy wicker basket was not going to ruin the lovely day that Kitty had planned. The Queen, her cousin, had dismissed all her ladies save for Lady Seville and Lady Ughtred which had left Cathy and Kitty free to enjoy themselves. Or at least, they WERE free until they bumped into their grandmother who had invited them both to lunch, which was obviously a pretence, so she could go around uncovering information.

Cathy sighed with relief, her eyes meeting Kitty's as they finally reached the area that Grandmother had chosen to sit. Agnes shrewdly watched her grand-daughters carefully lay the blankets and cushions upon the grass and set out the platters of miniature cakes, bread and cheese. Agnes smiled sharply at Kitty, allowing Kitty to help her down onto a cushion despite the fact she could easily manage herself.

Agnes allowed her grand-daughters to get comfortable, watching them select food and noting what they preferred. Kitty loved the cakes and the sweetened fruit whereas Cathy preferred the freshly baked bread and sliced meat. Agnes' cunning eyes settled on the two adolescents before her; picking apart their flaws.

Cathy was tall and willowy, although Agnes could spot the beginnings of budding curves, with eyes the colour of the ocean, skin as white as snow and chocolate brown hair that sat tamely around her shoulders. Cathy would be much alike her mother, Mary, in looks. Mary, despite how dim-witted she was, was certainly a beautiful woman. Agnes knew getting young Cathy a betrothal would be easy. She was certainly popular at court, especially amongst the pages in the King's household. Agnes was certain Anne would be able to get Cathy a respectable husband from a decent family (and Anne would definitely be able to override damned Mary's whinging about being free to pick her own husband for love). But most importantly was the fact they would need to build bridges with Cathy's marriage, and select a husband that would be loyal to them but who would also bring something to the family.

Kitty, on the other hand, was a loose cannon. She was not particularly beautiful, but she was charming, although naïve. Kitty had blonde hair and pale blue eyes, but she was skinny with a smile that was too wide for her face. _And she is damaged goods,_ a voice whispered to Agnes as she looked upon her grand-daughter, irritated once more that the lax chaperoning of Mistress Branch led to Kitty's deflowering. Unfortunately, Kitty's dowry would have be much more than Cathy's due to this unfortunate issue. Especially if they wanted to keep it hidden. Kitty could not become a burden to the Howards.

Agnes' attention was suddenly pulled to a dark-haired youth with a lazy devil-may-care smile who was grinning at Kitty as he sat by the large pond. His face was certainly attractive, sharp cheekbones with a strong jaw line, but his eyes were cold. They glittered almost emotionlessly as they stared at Kitty and even Agnes felt uncomfortable by the young man.

"Girls, you are to listen to me. Stay away from that boy. He will bring nothing but trouble to you both", Agnes sternly stated, pointing her walking stick in the direction of the adolescent.

And with that warning and a harsh glare at the dark-haired boy, Agnes limped back towards the palace, muttering to her Lady's Maid about the foolishness of youth.

As soon as their grandmother had left her charges, the boy approached, sauntering, like an eagle who had been stalking his prey. He crumbled to the ground in an oddly careful way and swiped the last éclair from the basket.

"So, you two are the prettiest ladies I've seen around here", he complimented, biting into the éclair as his eyes pierced the girls.

Kitty flushed at his words, her cheeks a pretty pink as she smiled at the man.

"I bet you say that to all the girls" Cathy retorted snottily, remembering that their grandmother had always been an excellent judge of character.

"Ah, the famous Boleyn tongue there. Always so haughty, aren't you, Missy".

Cathy's face reddened with irritation.

"I'm not a Missy. My name is Catherine and I'm niece to her Majesty".

"Ay, I know who you are. I just think you're a little big for your boots, considering your mother is well known for making herself mistress to Kings".

Cathy scowled at him, itching to slap his smug little face. Instead she grabbed the picnic basket and turned to her cousin, "Kitty, are you coming? Let's go back to the Palace. We could find Hal and Charlie".

Kitty shook her head, her eyes focused on the handsome man in front of her. With a concerned look, Cathy scuttled off in search of her cousin and her friend, hoping they would talk some sense into Kitty.

"Good riddance", the youth smiled, his lips curling, revealing his perfect teeth, "I'm Thomas. Thomas Culpepper".

"Katherine…Kitty Howard".

As his lips brushed her hand, Kitty felt her heart skip a beat. And at the tint of red upon her face, Thomas knew he had reeled her in.

 **XX**

 **15** **th** **August 1536, Hatfield Palace, Hertfordshire,**

"I must admit that I was surprised that you wished to accompany us to Hatfield, Lord Edward", Anne's tone was light, lilting almost but her words were suspicious.

Edward Seymour did not flinch or shy away from her words, he merely nodded tightly, his eyes focused on the Queen, "I must admit to finding that the Princess is a wonderful and intelligent child, and the Princes…well…you know why I have vested interest in them".

Anne nodded, her sharp eyes watching him. Her lady (and Edward's sister) stood stiffly by their side. However, the soft pitter-patter of feet drew Anne's attention away from Edward and towards her daughter who was coming towards them, her hand holding her governess'.

Kat Ashley had proven to be a good choice for her precious daughter. Kat was widely read and talented in languages. Elizabeth had blossomed under her tutelage and her care.

"Your Majesty, Lord Seymour, Lady Ughtred" curtsied Kat, her eyes remaining to the floor as Elizabeth copied her.

"The Princess is doing well in everything, your Majesty. She excels in French and Latin and I would love to ask your permission to begin teaching her some Spanish and Italian as she enjoys languages so much. She eats all her supper although she prefers sweet treats and she adores being outdoors. She is still struggling with her teeth, but we have been giving her rags of cloth dipped in whiskey to hold against her teeth for relief".

Anne nodded, in sorrow, pulling her daughter into a hug and kissing her forehead softly. "Tooth pain is really the worst, isn't it, my darling Lizabeth".

The princess nodded sadly, determined to milk as much sympathy as she was able. She smiled smugly at her mother's promise of a new gown and a new doll to cheer her up.

"I, at the risk of sounding impertinent, also think it would be best for the Princess' development if she could have companions to educate her socially" smiled Kat as she looked at her charge fondly.

"What a brilliant idea, Lady Ashley. Lady Ughtred, I would love for you to help me create a list of companions for Lizabeth".

Elizabeth grinned up at her mother, her gappy teeth visible, "Mama, make sure they are fun!".

Edward laughed loudly at the Princess' demand, drawing Lizabeth over to show him her reading ability.

Baroness Bryan, with Lady Parry at her heels, were soon in front of the Queen, carrying their young charges in her arms. Her little George was not so little anymore. He was a chubby baby, all ruddy cheeks, dark eyes and soft red curls. He was almost the spit of her Lizabeth.

"Prince George has been doing so well, your Majesty" smiled Baroness Bryan, cooing down at her giggling charge, "he can crawl now and has begun to say some words. His first one was Mama".

A tight pain gripped Anne's chest as happy tears glinted in her dark eyes. Oh, she wished she was a normal lady now, not a Queen at all. If she were a mere lady, she would be able to rear her children herself rather than relying on others to do so for her. She missed them all so dearly when she was away from them. She took George in her arms, kissing his sweet little nose.

"Oh, my darling, Georgie, you are a clever boy" she murmured at him, clutching him to her chest.

"Mama" cooed Georgie, his chubby fist grabbing at the sapphire necklace that adorned his mother's long neck.

"Prince Louis is beginning to crawl too" piped up Lady Parry, bringing the squirming baby to the Queen. Louis was still smaller than George, and oddly slim for a child of his age. His bright blue eyes, so alike his father's, were wise almost and his blonde hair was beginning to curl at his temples. She gingerly shifted Georgie onto her left hip so she could also take her dear Louis. Murmuring hushed words of love to her boys, she made her way over to her Lizabeth and to Edward. To her surprise, Edward was smiling quite openly at her daughter, showing her how to make a simple necklace out of beads and string.

She carefully sat on the floor, observing Edward with her daughter, as the boys crawled over her, mewling at each other.

Edward caught Anne's staring and he grinned to himself, playing with her children was clever, after all the way to her heart was through her children. At the slight tinge of red that hit her cheeks as she turned after he caught her watching him, he knew that it would be easy to insert himself as her closest companion when the time came for Prince George to become King. And building a relationship with the Tudor children was intelligent. After all, he would be the second most powerful man at court, advisor to the new King, friend to the Princess and long-term confidant of the Queen Dowager.

 **XX**

 **24** **th** **August 1536, Thornbury Castle, Gloucestershire,**

The gentleman in front of her was stern, unsmiling. Instead of the hose and doublet worn by most of the courtiers, he wore a robe similar to those that Monks would wear. The robe was a raven black with the most detailed silver embroidery, depicting the constellations of the stars. His eyes were glassy, almost unfocused as he stared at the beautiful queen before him, an obsidian mirror clutched into his hand.

Anne wore a simple dress, a rich red in colour, adorned by beautiful pearls fetched from seas far away. A cup of ginger tea sat undrunk in her hands. Although she was slightly uncomfortable by the odd man, she had sourced him especially from France.

"I understand what it is that you want of me, Your Majesty, however you must know that consorting occult practises and astrology can be unreliable at the best of times".

The voice was croaky, almost as if it was hardly ever used. Her dark eye flickered to the man in her outer chambers.

"I know the gift of sight can only see as it wishes. I merely request that you tell me what you can see of my future, of my family", her words were little more than a breathy whisper. She was desperate for the promises of happiness in the future.

"Ma'am, if I may interrupt, I don't think this is a wise endeavour" murmured Nan Saville, as she exchanged the cold ginger tea for a warm one. She stared mistrustfully at the Frenchman, begging her mistress silently to see sense. To see that the future was hidden for a reason.

Instead Anne ignored her close friend, following the seer's instructions to place her slim hands onto the obsidian mirror. Her brows furrowed as she watched the seer's quiet whispering when suddenly he started rocking.

"The stars have spoken. I see all that is laid before me. A new baby, a new plot against you. The blonde lady brings much pain…A new dawn is coming; the prince brings so much promise to the land when he takes to the throne... Your daughter, your pretty daughter, so clever…so foolish…"

His hands suddenly grasped Anne's wrists tightly as squeezed, "blood…so much blood and then the red lion falls".

 **XX**

 _Notes:_

 _Thank you all for your lovely reviews (and those who have followed and favourited this story). I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update but I've been extremely busy, and I've had Carpal Tunnel surgery so I've been unable to type!_

 _Guest_ _– No need to worry. I think you'll find that Anne will become indifferent to Henry. After all, self-preservation is an instinct and she will seek to protect herself from pain. x_

 _I love Kol Mikaelson_ _– I hope this chapter was worth the wait! x_

 _Guest_ _– Elizabeth has been betrothed to Charles Valois but only time will tell if the betrothal will last. Thank you for the ideas for the other Tudor children though x_

 _Elizabeth 'Liz' Ughtred (nee Seymour) had two children with Sir Anthony Ughtred called Henry (1533) and Margery (1535). Henry was placed in the care of Helier de Carteret, Bailiff of Jersey, after his father's death. Margery was born after her father's death at Wulfhall. In this story, Liz's children are called Anthony and Margie to stop confusion between characters. Both children have been residing with Helier de Carteret until now._

 _So, Thomas Culpepper has been introduced now. I hope you're not expecting a love story between Kitty and him. I will state that my Thomas Culpepper is not a nice person and poor Kitty is heading down a dangerous path._

 _Elizabeth I was fluent in French, Greek, Spanish, Italian and Latin. She was also able to speak Flemish, Gaelic, Welsh and Cornish._

 _Elizabeth I did struggle a lot from her teeth, as shown in accounts from that time. Margaret Bryan, herself, noted it in letters to Cromwell. Unfortunately, this was a pain that would plague her for the rest of her life. Whiskey being rubbed onto the gums was a popular source of pain relief for toothache back in the Tudor times._

 _Edward Seymour is a tricky character, I hope my writing gives him justice._

 _It was extremely common to consult astrologers and seers in the Tudor Times. Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII were said to have consulted some when she was pregnant with Elizabeth (the soothsayers were wrong as they proclaimed Elizabeth would be a boy). Elizabeth, herself, had an occult practiser at her court called Dr John Dee. Anyway, Anne has accessed one who had given her a terrifying prophesy…_

 _Next Time – A betrothal comes for one of the princes, Mary Tudor makes her choice, Jane Seymour flashes her pregnancy around, Hal tries to talk to Kitty and the prophesy scares Anne._


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